17. Or if the ball from a stroke of the bat, or hand, but not wrist, be held before it touch the ground, although it be hugged to the body of the catcher;

18. Or if, in striking, or at any other time while the ball shall be in play, both his feet be over the popping crease, and his wicket put down, except his bat be grounded within it;

19. Or if, in striking at the ball he hit down his wicket;

20. Or if, under pretence of running, or otherwise, either of the strikers prevent a ball from being caught;

21. Or if the ball be struck, and he wilfully strike it again; 1 22. Or if in running, the wicket be struck down by a throw, or by the hand or arm (with ball in hand), before his foot, hand, or bat be grounded over the popping crease (but, if the bails be off, a stump must be struck out of the ground);

23. Or, if any part of the striker's dress knock down the wicket;

24. Or, if the striker touch or take up the ball while in play, unless at the request of the opposite party;

25. Or, if with any part of his person he stop the ball, which, in the opinion of the umpire at the bowler's wicket, shall have been delivered in a straight line to the striker's wicket, and would have hit it. 26. If the players have crossed each other, he that runs for the wicket which is put down, is out.

27. A ball being caught, no run shall be reckoned.

28. A striker being run out, that run, which he and his partner were attempting, shall not be reckoned.

29. If a lost ball shall be called, the striker shall be allowed six runs; but if more than six shall have been run before "lost ball" shall have been called, then the striker shall have all that have been

run.

30. After the ball shall have been settled in the wicket-keeper's or bowler's hand, it shall be considered dead. If, when the bowler is about to deliver the ball, the striker at his wicket shall go outside the popping crease before such actual delivery, the said bowler may put him out, unless (with reference to law 22), his bat in hand, or some part of his person be within the said crease.

34. If any fieldsman stop the ball with his hat, the ball shall be considered dead, and the opposite party shall add five runs to their score: if any be run, they shall have five in all.

35. The ball having been hit, the striker may guard his wicket with his hat, or with any part of his body except his hand; that the 24th law may not be infringed.

36. The wicket-keeper shall stand at a reasonable distance behind the wicket, and shall not take the ball for the purpose of stumping, until it has passed the wicket; he shall not move till the ball be out of the bowler's hand; he shall not by any noise incommode the striker; and if any part of his person be over or before the wicket, although the ball hit it, the striker shall not be out.

37. The umpires are sole judges of fair and unfair play, and all disputes shall be determined by them, each at his own wicket; but, in case of a catch, which the umpire, at the wicket bowled from, cannot see sufficiently to decide upon, he may apply to the other umpire, whose opinion shall be conclusive.

38. The umpires, in all matches, shall pitch fair wickets, and the parties shall toss up for the choice of innings.

39. They (the umpires) shall allow two minutes for each striker to come in, and fifteen minutes between each innings. When they shall call "play," the party refusing to play shall lose the match.

40. The umpires are not to order a striker out, unless appealed to by the adversaries.

41. But if one of the bowler's feet be not on the ground behind the bowling crease, and within the return crease, when he shall deliver the ball, the umpire at his wicket, unasked, must call, no ball." 42. If either of the strikers run a short run, the umpire must call, "one short." 43. No umpire shall be allowed to bet. 44. No umpire is to be changed during

a match, unless with the consent of both parties, except in violation of the 43rd law: then, either party may dismiss the transgressor.

45. After the delivery of four balls, the umpire must call "over," but not until the ball shall be finally settled in the wicket keeper's hand, or that of the bowler, the ball shall then be considered dead; nevertheless, if an idea be entertained that either of the strikers is out, a question may be put previously to, but not after, the delivery of the next ball.

46. The umpire must take especial care to call “no ball," instantly upon delivery; "wide ball," as soon as ever it shall pass the striker.

47. The players who go in second shall follow their innings, if they shall have obtained one hundred runs less than their antagonists.

48. When one of the strikers shall have been put out, the use of the bat shall not be allowed to any person till the next striker shall come in.

ABUSE OF SCIENCE.-Nearly all the sciences in their origin, instead of producing salutary fruits, have given rise to the most deplorable abuses. Astrology, by the aid of cheats and charlatans, boldly wrought on the credulity of men, while the true science of the stars, timid and unknown, was attempting its first steps, and was endeavouring to mount its usurped throne. Alchemy in turn, seated itself by the side of the cradle of the science which studies the laws and composition of bodies; and for a long time it also deceived men by the promise of results which it had not power to realise. Magic, next, foreseeing the marvels which physic would one day produce, attempted to accomplish them in its own way, and equally to usurp a power which did not belong to it. Each science at its birth finds the same antagonism. So soon as we perceive the distant end to which it should conduct, so soon as we have the consciousness of its future, imagination seeks to seize by anticipation those treasures the contemplation of which should one day give us enjoyment: it gives birth to brilliant systems, and attempts to transfer to others the illusions by which itself has been misled.-Quetelet.

EVENINGS AT HOME;

OR, WINTER IN SPITZBERGEN.

TWELFTH EVENING.

THE story of the English captain was too closely interwoven with the fate of the three friends, for the children not to look forward most eagerly for the account of his unexpected preservation. They had become very greatly interested in him, because he was so zealous and active in trying to find out with certainty the fate of the three brave men, who had been so unfortunate in his service, that he spared no pains to save them, and was signally favoured by Providence in this attempt. They waited with longing for the evening on which they were to hear more about him; and scarcely had their father taken his usual place, than the children crowded around him, and reminding him of his promise, begged him to go on with the account.

FATHER. Now, then, listen, children! But we must go back a year in our story. You may remember, where we then left the brave English captain, the last time we saw him.

Gus. O yes! On the wreck, shut in by the ice.

MAX. How our three friends had been sent to land, and gave the signal with rockets, which the captain answered.

FATHER. Very well. And now to proceed. The captain had noticed the signal agreed on and answered it. "A good sign," said he. "Our messengers have not only discovered land, but have also found a shelter, which will protect us from the weather. Thank God! Now we will do what we can to get to them." He immediately commanded the whole wreck to be cleared out, and to take every thing that might be useful or appeared worth carrying to the land. The way thither was a large smooth field of ice; he, therefore, directed the two ship carpenters to make a sleigh or sled of the broken mast, while the sailors began to carry up the casks and stores which were in the hold, on the deck. In the meantime, the cap

The captain himself ran up on the deck, and found that it was even so. He was about to give command to hurry the journey, and to spur them on, when to his great horror, he observed that the vast field of ice in which the wreck was enclosed, was in motion, and was driven off to the south-east, and so continually further from the island.

MAX. And his ship?

FATHER. Of course with it, as she was wedged fast in the ice. The brave captain was almost unnerved by affright, for every possibility of reaching land now vanished.

MARIA. What then did the poor men do?

FATHER. They could do nothing more than try to keep up their spirits. "Boys!" said the captain, "it is impossible to reach land; we cannot and ought not to leave the wreck. We are in the hands of Almighty God, and must follow whither the ice drives us. All hope of deliverance is not yet lost."

JULIA. A frightful comfort that!

FATHER. But it was the only one which remained to them. The captain examined to see whether the wreck was yet firm enough in its sides, to be able to withstand, in a measure, its pressure, in case the ice should be dissolved; a hope which was almost as good as none.

JULIA. Why?

FATHER. The pressure of a cake of ice, miles in extent, and several yards thick, is too powerful not to dash in pieces any ship that it might strike against. The captain himself gave up his life for lost; but he carefully disguised the danger from his crew, because he wished to keep them the more courageous and active than they would have been, had they wholly despaired of being saved. With a calm visage he exhorted them to do their duty, to watch

every thing closely, and not to abandon hope of being yet preserved.

He himself went down into the cabin, and wrote to his relatives. In the letter he mentioned the whole ship's company, and our friends too, by name, told of their sorrowful fate to which they were exposed, copied the account also in the Russian language, and marked out the latitude in which his ship met the misfortune. JULIA. That was very well, father; but how then was this letter to reach his friends? Who was to take care of it?

FATHER. Yes, that had to be thought of. I see that it would have been a great difficulty with you, and I must, therefore, remind you of the history of a famous navigator.

MAX. I know, you certainly mean Columbus, who, in a terrible storm, made a description of his discoveries, and put the letter

JULIA. Into a barrel, and having fastened it up, threw it into the sea.

FATHER. True. The captain did the same. He placed the well-drawn account in a little cask covered over with pitch, and set it on the ice. The custom prevails on the sea-coasts to have any such casks or bottles driven on shore, taken up, handed to the nearest magistrate or authority. They are then opened by him, and the letters sent on their way by the post to the proper office.

MARIA. Such a special journey by the post must often give unnecessary sorrow and many needless affrights.

FATHER. That may be, and the result will teach you that this was the case here. But it was the only way to give information to his friends. The weather continued stormy and rough, and, indeed, it grew more and more so, though the cold, which had before been so severe, had become milder.

MARIA. That was a great blessing. FATHER. On the contrary, the warmer the air grew, the more the cake of ice broke to pieces. The wreck was thus the more exposed to danger to be dashed in pieces, as it had no mast, no rudder to steer it between the single cakes. Supposing, too, they should gain the free and open sea, what was to become of them there in a helpless, unmanageable wreck? It was, therefore, no improvement in the

condition of these unfortunates that the weather was milder; unless we regard it a benefit that their sufferings would the sooner end.

The immense cake of ice was driven on continually further, urging the foaming waves before it, and followed by the roaring billows. When the masses of falling snow diminished, and the air became somewhat clearer, they could scarcely perceive the mountain-waves, so long and broad was the field of ice, which inclosed these unfortunates. Three days, and as many nights, they were thus driven forward.

JULIA. That was the time in which our friends could no more perceive the wreck, and looked out on the open sea?

FATHER. This was after the first night. Probably the wreck was then not far from Spitzbergen. Only the high mounting waves would have prevented their being able to see the low wreck, fastened in the ice, and our three friends could not believe anything more certain, than that the wreck had gone down with the unfortunate men in it.

For three days, then, were the poor men so driven onward, when the air became clearer, the weather more calm, the cold more severe, the wild foaming waves subsided, and the field of ice stood fast as a rock.

JULIA. Thank God!

MAX. I am not so certain that this sticking fast like a rock of the cake of ice was fortunate. What do you think, father?

FATHER. This circumstance increased the wretchedness of the poor men. Suppose it should become so fastened, that it remained utterly immoveable

MAX. Could that be the case? FATHER. Very easily. We find in those seas, ice that is many hundreds of yards thick. If the current of waters drives such a cake on a shallow, or a sand-bank lying hid under the water, it would stick fast, and the wreck would remain uninjured. But what now would become of the unfortunate men? They could not leave the cake of ice which formed, as it were, a desolate island far away from any inhabited regions. Suppose, too, that the poor men had a good boat on the wreck, and had carried it to the edge of the ice-field and got into it, whither should thev direct

themselves?

How could they hold out with the few means of subsistence they could take with them? How withstand the dreadful cold in an open boat? What land should they make for? How should they reach it?

MAX. Questions indeed most weighty, and unanswerable for what I can see!

FATHER. In every case, whether they should now remain in the wreck, or venture on the dangerous attempt to leave it, certain death must be their lot; the only difference, probably, was that their distress and tortures might be shorter in one way than in some other.

MARIA. A horrible situation! We pitied our three friends on Spitzbergen, and did not know that they were to be envied in comparison with the ship's crew.

FATHER. One proof more, that there are always more unfortunate persons than those whom we regard as such.

Gus. Now, father, how did the poor men get along?

FATHER. That the thirty men of which the ship's company consisted, felt themselves in the highest degree unhappy, and the more clearly they perceived their frightful situation, must have despaired of being saved, you may very easily imagine. In the prospect of certain death, where every mode of deliverance seemed impossible, even the most courageous lost their firmness, and so it was no wonder that for the first hour or two, at least, all the men gave themselves up to mute despair.

MARIA. I really do not know what these poor men could have, to give them any comfort.

FATHER. And yet in a very few hours they were more tranquil and composed, than could have been expected. The thought-as in the case of our three friends-"It is so now and cannot be otherwise," rendered them more calm and courageous; from this state of feeling hope revived, that perhaps deliverance might be possible, and this hope strengthened them in the determination to do everything that could assist in saving themselves.

MAX. That was right, father, was it not; but what could they do?

FATHER. Little indeed; but still something. The brave captain called the whole

crew together, "We are thirty of us," said he; "we have a good firm boat. My advice is that we launch her and take with us what we can, and try to reach the island, on which our Russian friends are. Are you willing?

Gus. That was the best course. Certainly none of them could think otherwise. FATHER. Do you think so? You will hear, however, that some of the most experienced sailors objected to the proposed dangerous undertaking. They represented to the captain, that they did not know how far the storm might have driven the ice with the wreck, in three days and nights, and how distant the island might be. Again, in the course, which had been so often changed, of the storm, they could not determine the region in which that island lay; and they therefore did not accurately know where they were to look for it. And in the third place, they did not know whether they might not strike against some fast iceberg; and if this should not be the case, yet they would always be exposed to the greatest danger, between the floating ice especially, in case a storm should arise. Besides, in days which lasted only a few hours, they could undertake no distant voyage; and how should they protect themselves against the cold, in an open boat, and during the long nights.

Gus. These were indeed strong objections.

FATHER. The captain yielded. Though he was really convinced that little hope existed of their deliverance if they remained in the wreck, yet he acknowledged the fearful dangers which were connected with their leaving it. As he saw that no one agreed in his opinion, so he would not expose himself to the reproach of having rendered others unfortunate by his advice. He determined to share with his people, whatever was impending over them, and in the midst of them await the last hour of his life. By his command one of the sailors was sent with the little cask which always lay near the wreck, to the open sea and to commit it to the waves.

MAX. And what now did they do? FATHER. They all prepared for the last moment of life; only the brave captain indulged some hopes.

MARIA. But why? What reason had he

FATHER. He remembered, that sometimes in the latter season of the year, ships were detained in these regions.

MARIA. Small grounds for hope, I should think.

FATHER. Even a little hope is often a great deal for the unfortunate.

MARIA. Even if there really was a ship detained could it be that it would notice the wreck?

FATHER. Of this the experienced captain took care. During the day signals were made from a high pole, and rockets sent up hourly through the night. They had done this for eleven nights without any answer. The cold was increasing, their provisions, strength, and courage lessening, when, on the twelfth night, the sailor on the watch burst into the cabin with a loud cry, "A signal! A signal in the south-west!" Overcome with joy, the men rushed into each other's arms, and on their knees, poured forth their thanks to God for this deliverance.

Who can describe their happiness as the next day they descried the ship from which the signal came. From it a boat was sent, and the crew mounting the ice, took the poor Englishmen to a Danish vessel, on which they reached Copenhagen, from whence, after a short detention, they arrived in their own country.

NEW BELGIAN DAISIES. It is quite surprising to see to what an extent the Belgian cultivators have carried the cultivation of this humble but beautiful flower. No less than one hundred varieties are offered for sale; many of them very distinct, and of all shades of colour, from white to deep crimson or scarlet. Some are mottled, and spotted; others red or blush, with crimson centre, and vice versa ; some with broad, and some with quilled petals; some globular, others flat. They have reached that perfection that they almost vie with the ranunculus in beauty. All these are as hardy as the common daisy, and are destined to become great favourites. It is indeed singular that a flower, endeared by so many associations, should have fallen into such neglect as only to become again sought after by the attractions of new kinds.