a certain geographical distribution quite independently of the destructive agencies of animals. Such a case is the gradual increase in brilliancy of colour of both birds and butterflies, as we pass from Tasmania to the northern part of Australia. It can hardly be that the insectivorous birds uniformly decrease as we reach the warmer Australian latitudes so as to allow of the existence of more conspicuous insect forms; but if it were so, this would in no way explain the greater brilliancy of the birds themselves.

Again, though certain South American butterflies mimic others which are protected by an offensive odour, yet other species mimic forms which are quite destitute of such protection, and which do not lend themselves, as far as we yet know, to any similar explanation. Then, why are these peculiar mimicking modes of variation, though spread among different species of certain, yet confined as they are to such groups? How many birds would be benefited by mimicry besides the eastern orioles? How many insects also other than those which exhibit the peculiarity? No! some other influence than "Natural Selection" has had a share in determining such phenomena—an influence similar to that which induces certain shells when removed to strange waters to assume characters possessed by the species in the second locality; but of this in our next section. We do not here allude to any influence higher than is indicated in every part of nature. We allude merely to a secondary cause; but we are strongly impressed with the conviction that that cause is not "Natural Selection," pure and simple. Here, however, we must pause for the present.

What can be done for the Little Dnes.

IF, when walking through London, any one diverges ever so little from its main arteries into the tangled network of lesser veins and channels, the first obvious feeling that arises is of wonder that any of the countless multitude of babies and very young children seen in them should succeed in growing to full age, or in escaping the variety of deaths and maiming accidents which seem hourly presented to their choice. There are few more melancholy sights to our mind-among the saddening spectacles of this boasted centre of wealth and civilisation, than this abundant profusion of young life teeming in every court, lane, alley, and entry; on doorsteps, in gutters, on leads, in cellars; industriously misspending the energies and intelligence given them by God and prematurely sharpened by town life, and striving to force occupation, amusement, and, to a certain degree, instruction, out of the noxious, or doubtful, or scanty means, which their untoward circumstances allow. And the inevitable thought of the state of soul of these desolate and untrained little ones is still more melancholy than the external facts. Left to sisters scarcely older than themselves, to boys who desert them on the cold flags, to drunken women, worst of all, the lot of these London nurslings, while their mothers are selling in the streets or watching their husband's barrows, is sad indeed; and it is not surprising, considering the unavoidable need for the poorer or costermongering class of these mothers to share the bread-winning of the household, that some statesmen have advocated the general farming-out of babies up to the age when they should be eligible for infant-schools. It is true that such farming generally ends in a great mortality of the farmed, and that the aggregation of small children under one roof tends to the

increase of the frequency or intensity of disease. Even so, some might prefer the result of a smaller number of well-brought-up, healthy children, to the puny, ricketty, unprincipled though more numerous population, now merely swelling the ranks of "juvenile offenders."

It is impossible for one acquainted with both cities not to turn from London to Paris, and contrast with the half-heathen social horrors of our own capital the Salles d Asile and Crèches abounding among our neighbours. No doubt the bright clear freshness and extraordinary external beauty of "the Lady of the Seine" adds a pleasure to all Paris sights, but it is the inexhaustible source of Christian charity in its full signification which really impresses the mind. We cannot forget, it is impossible not frequently to recal, the aspect of some of those clean, large-windowed salles, the happy, merry, bright-eyed, white-capped babies, the pretty toys and miniature furniture, and the faces of the Sisters of Charity and nurses who preside over their kingdoms with such kindly, motherly rule. Retaining these vivid recollections, after visiting lately some of the worst courts of Marylebone, in which a storm of drunkenness, foul language, and gross conduct seems perpetually to rage, even in the broadest day, and where every sense is assailed by causes of horror and disgust, it may well be conceived that the aspect of a neat door in Beaumont Street, inscribed "Benedict Joseph Labre Crèche," with two texts about Christ's little ones underneath, turned our thoughts into a pleasurable channel. This impression was increased when the door opened, and the well-known cornette of St. Vincent's Daughters appeared to welcome the visitor, and show whatever was within with that hearty, simple kindness, which distinguishes the Sisters of Charity all over the world. The house, No. 16, Beaumont Street, has been now some little while opened, by the charity of Lady Petre and a number of subscribing friends, as a daynursery, where any poor mother can send her baby on the payment of threepence per day. For this nominal sum, the children are nursed and tended with the most assiduous care, provided with a light, airy, cheerful day

*

room, a sleeping-room with separate beds, and with four good meals every day. The food consists of two good meals of excellent bread and milk, one of nourishing soup, such as is good for them, and one of milk-andwater and a piece of bread before they are taken home. Moreover, if the children are sent to the nursery dirty, uncared for, or in rags, they are carefully bathed and cleansed, and fresh clothing provided for their use while in the house. Four Sisters of Charity and a strong nursegirl form the staff for about fifty babies and small children up to the age of three years, but the numbers sent daily vary indefinitely, according to the working days and means of the parents.

It is a pleasant sight to watch these little children gravely playing with rag dolls, or more gravely speculating -fastened into their neat little chairs-upon those profound mysteries in which babies appear to delight, or seated, like fashionable guests, round their lilliputian horseshoe dining-table. Prettiest of all, to our mind, it is to pass into their sleeping-rooms, and see the clean, healthy little things asleep in their tiny cribs, covered with the whitest of sheets and counterpanes, and far removed from the sounds, and smells, and hideous squalor of their own court-homes. That they must return thither at night is as yet a sad necessity, but at least their days are spent healthily and well. They are taught with the first dawn of reason to bow at the sacred name of Jesus, to point with love to "Mother Mary," and to make the sign of the Cross; to be kind and gentle with each other, to curb their childish pets and passions, and when they have been wilful and fractious to be really sorry, instead of being soothed with sugar-sticks or cruelly beaten. We are aware that great philosophers in high assemblies have propounded solemn theories of great coherence about the evils of infant-schools and nurseries, of withdrawing children from their parents' influence, of substituting artificial systems for the natural provision, and the like. It was lately proposed by one such philosopher that public hospitals

* Those who remain till eight o'clock in the evening. Those who are taken away at four o'clock have three meals.

should be shut up, and the sick poor served and treated at their own homes. We wish these solemn pundits in social science every success, but having perhaps more practical experience than they in the courts of Marylebone and the Seven Dials, we again rejoice in Lady Petre's house in Beaumont Street, and sincerely hope it may thrive and prosper with the warm encouragement it deserves. When it outgrows as outgrow it must-its present narrow quarters, we hope to see it drop its foreign name, and be called, as it is, in good English, a Daynursery. It is scarcely necessary to bring before our readers any notice of that other permanent nursery, for some years established in Carlisle Place, Victoria Street, under the same beneficent care of the Sisters of Charity. In that excellent house there is more scope for lasting influence, as the children are gradually removed to the orphanage and school, and may thus remain under training until they are able to go to service, or learn some fitting trade. The needlework taught in this orphanage will probably bear comparison with that of any institution in London.

There is another work carried on under a variety of difficulties, and which circumstances have probably contributed to hinder, to which we should like to draw the attention of generous and discerning supporters. We allude to those portions of Nazareth House which are devoted to sick children and infants not born in wedlock, many of whom may be said to have been rescued from the perils of infanticide and loss of faith in a workhouse. Without being absolutely a foundling hospital, this portion of Nazareth House fulfils the best conditions of such an institution, and is of the utmost value and interest. None but illegitimate children are admitted to it, but those undesirable conditions of foundling institutions which cut the children entirely off from the parents, and maintain an absolute secrecy as to their identity, are here unknown. On the contrary, the managers, wisely recognising the inestimable uses of the great laws of human affection, and considering them to be one chief means of preservation from sin and return to a Christian life, permit the mothers.