SYCAMORE TREE. Ficus Sycamorus. We have given a picture of the sycamore, as drawn in Salt's Travels; and to make our account instructive, we have added a representation of a branch with some of the figs upon it: see p. 442. This tree, consecrated and recommended to us by allusions to it in the sacred writings, has been long known to the curious; but even at this time dried specimens are so scarce, that they cannot be met with but in a few large collections. There is only one specimen in the British Museum, and that has not the fruit upon it. As recent specimens in fruit are not to be obtained, we have delineated, on p. 442, the fruit and flowers of the common fig, Ficus carica, that the botanical student may have a correct idea of its mode of flowering. The generic characters of the Ficus consist in having a common receptacle, globular, fleshy, concave, and closed with several scales at the orifice. This receptacle, as it is called, is, in our opinion, an involucre, or a collection of leaves proceeding from one point, which, cohering together and becoming fleshy, form a hollow globe, or oblate spheroid. Within the globe, the flowers are ranged, the barren ones near the edge of the opening, the fruit-bearing ones occupy the rest of the inside. This involucre, or vessel containing the flowers, continues DECEMBER, 1838. to increase in size till it has arrived at its appointed limit of magnitude, when, by the action of the sun's rays, the juices contained in them, with their proper vessels, are changed into a pulpy continuous mass. In the mean time, the flowers decay, and the seeds are matured, which, by the commixing with the pulpy increase, lose their separate and distinct positions. The Perianth, or calyx, is deeply three-cleft, with the clefts or divisions erect. Corolla none. Stamens three, with their filaments bristle-shaped. Anthers two-lobed. Pistil stunted rudiment only. In the fertile flowers the calyx is in five divisions, which are deep and lance-shaped. Germen oval, filling up the calyx. Style, composed of a united pair of styles, which separate and end in awl-shaped stigmas. Seed, one to each fertile flower, of a compressed or flattened form. The sycamore is a large tree, with leaves resembling those of the mulberry, whence the appellation, which imports a mulberry fig. It is a native of the Levant, Palestine, and Egypt. The stem is often fifty feet in thickness; and as it spreads forth its boughs far and wide, it affords a refreshing shade in the sultry climes where it grows. The wood is of a durable nature, and furnishes material for the fabrication of mummy cases. The fruit is produced from the trunk and larger M M branches, and is pierced by a gall-fly | gall-flies. The inhabitants of Lower Egypt, Hasselquist informs us, wound or cut the tree at the time of budding; for without this precaution they say it will not bear fruit. This is done to prevent a superabundance of sap, and the effect is perhaps the same, whether the fruit be scratched four days before it is expected to ripen, or at the time of budding. That the excess of circulating juice hinders the formation of fruit, is a matter very well known among gardeners. We may guess that Amos, who styles himself a scraper of sycamore trees, ch. vii. 14, puts a part for the whole, and implies that he was an husbandman, and probably a skilful man in his calling. Branch of Sycamore Tree. aromatic flavour. At the end of March it buds, and ripens its fruit by the beginning of June. Theophrastus tells us, Ficus Carica. a. Germen and Pistil. b. Stamen. d. Section of the Fruit, showing the Stamens and Pistils enclosed in the interior. c. The opening by which the interior of the fruit communicates with the atmosphere. and Pliny after him, that the fruit will not ripen unless it be wounded, or scraped with iron nails; an operation which is performed, we see, by the cynipes, or ROSE AND CROWN LANE: OR, A SKETCH OF MY NEIGHBOURHOOD.-No. XI. (Conclusion.) It By some philosophers man has been distinguished as a reflecting animal-one that looks backwards and forwards. can scarcely be established that this is the prerogative of man alone; for the more sagacious of the brute creation (the dog, the horse, the elephant) certainly possess the power of recollection and association they have a knowledge of the persons by whom, and the circumstances under which they have been either gratified, injured, or punished; and they will plainly discover this knowledge, if brought again into contact with the same persons or scenes, or into similar circumstances. A moral consciousness, however, certainly belongs to man alone, and distinguishes him from the inferior creatures. He alone is capable of regulating his conduct by moral rules, and of anticipating or tracing its consequences, and their agreement with certain fixed principles. Thus, he who has impoverished himself by extravagance, or he who has disordered his constitution by excess, feels conscious that in the poverty or disease under which he suffers, he reaps the natural and just consequences of his own folly. This is experience. A wise man- -(for, despite of proverbs, a fool will not)-a wise man will learn by experience to avoid similar courses in future. Wiser still is the man who foresees the evil to which his courses tend, and forsakes the foolish way before the consequences of his error come upon him, and so escapes the mischief to which he had exposed himself. He is the wisest of all who is content to learn from the experience of others, and from the dictates of unerring wisdom-who is taught, and sees, and believes the way of good, without gaining his knowledge by the actual loss of good, and experience of evil. It is this kind of wisdom that we ought to derive from our observations of human character, and the methods of Divine Providence. Happy would the writer of these sketches be in indulging the hope that they might prove the means of leading some whose characters are here portrayed, to perceive and to forsake the errors by which their interests are endangered, if not sacrificed; happier still if any young beginners in domestic life should be directed and confirmed in choosing at first the good and the right way. I have already disclaimed all knowledge of futurity beyond that which is gained by the application of scriptural principles to human conduct; but as I read in Scripture, that "the soul of the slothful desireth and hath nothing: but the hand of the diligent maketh rich;" that "the glutton and the drunkard shall come to poverty and drowsiness shall clothe a man in rags;" and, in general, that "it shall be well with the righteous, but it shall not be well with the wicked;" it is not very difficult to imagine what may be the future condition of families, according to their present conduct. Retracing, then, my neighbourhood, and beginning at No. 1, I remark, that the dirty, indolent habits of Mr. and Mrs. Perkins, and their family, naturally tend to disease and poverty. I should not, therefore, be surprised, in case of any epidemic disorder breaking out in the neighbourhood, if several of its victims should be taken from this family; indeed, it would be a wonder if they should escape. Perhaps one or both of the parents may be cut off in early life, and leave their family altogether dependent on the parish. Should they escape a visitation of this kind, what is more likely than that John Perkins's habits of intemperance should bring on him palsy or consumption, by which he would be reduced to helplessness, or brought to an early grave? Then, against an attack, whether of sudden or lingering sickness, they have made no provision, possess no comforts, no resources. If such a trial should come upon them, it may be expected that they will get into debt, part with their few articles of furniture, and sink into total wretchedness; perhaps occasionally receiving temporary relief from casual charity, but wearying out their benevolent friends, and at last taking refuge in the poor-house. The natural tendency of things is from bad to worse, from poverty and dirt to utter destitution; and, alas! the process of moral deterioration goes on with equal certainty and velocity. I tremble when I think to what depths of vice and irreligion these unhappy people may then be plunged; how much further they may have wandered from God, and how totally destitute they may find themselves of any solace and support in the time of their worldly distress; how ignorant of, or how hardened against the only way of salvation, the only foundation that can sustain a sinner in the hour of death, and in the prospect of standing before God in judgment. I know of one means, and only one, by which this melancholy issue may be averted-one which would effectually better the condition of my poor unhappy neighbours, which would bring order and comfort into their dwelling, and peace and satisfaction into their minds. It is the transforming influence of the grace of God, which, bringing salvation, teaches to deny ungodliness, and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly in the world. My neighbours are parents, and I cannot but anticipate with grief the influence of parental example on their numerous family, and its probable effect both on their future characters and circumstances. What will these children be a few years hence? if matters go on in their present course, perhaps something like the following. Brought up in habits of dirt and indolence, rude and coarse in their manners, total strangers to self-respect, industry, thrift, and propriety of behaviour, they possess none of the elements of rising in life. Should they become apprentices, they will be awkward, slovenly, and careless in their work. If they seek situations in domestic service, they will be unfit to enter respectable families, and must put up with the very lowest and most undesirable situations; indeed, no decent person, however humble their circumstances, who can keep a servant at all, would like to put up with one of dirty, careless habits. Besides, dirty habits are frequently connected with, or lead to vicious habits. No reliance can be placed on the virtue of a young person who is a stranger to self-respect. Then, too, the stances; cross to the children of the family, and quarrelsome with fellowservants; perhaps not only cleanly, but idolizing cleanliness, and grudging that the articles in whose brightness they delight, should be taken down for any use young Perkinses have been trained at | easily conforming themselves to circumhome in the practice of deceit. They have been taught to make a false excuse to the master for the absence of their father from work, and to offer false pleas to gain the assistance of the charitable; and they have sometimes seen these tricks succeed. Lessons of deceitful purpose. Observe, I do not say that are never forgotten. When these young people have ends of their own to answer, or faults to conceal, their mother's expedient will be sure to present itself; the practice will become habitual; the confidence of employers will soon be lost, and they will know the wretchedness of having to seek a living without a character. Then they are growing up without dutiful regard to their parents, and without family attachments among themselves. When these dispositions are not cultivated in childhood, they rarely come into operation in riper years; and there is little reason to hope that the members of this family, under any circumstance, will prove a help and solace to one another. As they advance in life, and form new family connexions, it is to be feared that they will but multiply and perpetuate vice and wretchedness to future generations. In a word, it is an unhappy family, and there is no prospect whatever of its ever being otherwise, except by a total change of disposition, character, and course. The probable course of the family at next door presents a very different aspect, yet by no means of so promising and satisfactory a kind as it might be if industry and cleanliness were improved by godliness, and authority regulated by principle, and temper sweetened by grace. The little Browns will in all probability prove active, industrious, and intelligent, and rise many degrees above their neighbours. It can scarcely be imagined that they should ever become helpless dawdles, and willing to sit down contentedly in dirt and wretchedness. No, they will most likely have a spirit of emulation; they will have an aptitude for acquiring property, and preserving it. From mere habit, they will be thrifty and careful in managing the property of others, and will take a pleasure in keeping things in order. Hence they will be useful servants, and likely to gain good situations; but their tempers will probably prove a drawback on their other excellences. They will probably be pert, saucy, and overbearing; spurning at reproof, soon put out of the way, not it will be so; I do not set myself up for a prophet: I merely remark that the manner in which these children are trained at home, is likely to form them to such tempers and habits. I have seen several instances in which similar treatment has produced such results, and therefore I think it probable in the present instance; and I mention the probability, that in case my remarks should meet the eye of Mrs. Brown, or any other mother who adopts like methods with her children, she may be induced to inquire whether her plans are not susceptible of improvement. If among Mrs. Brown's family there should be one child of a timid disposition, its temper will probably be injured by finding it impossible to please. It will become disheartened and degraded, indolent and useless; for it is not likely to meet with sympathy or encouragement from the more energetic members of the family, who have not been taught to bear one another's burdens. It will be as a speckled bird among them-despised, and perhaps deserted by the rest. Family alienation is a frequent consequence of holding in too high and exclusive esteem the ability to get and keep the good things of this life. It is well to aim at excellence in all we do, and to promote and encourage the same spirit in those around us; but if once we begin to value ourselves upon our capabilities and acquirements, otherwise than as they are the means of usefulness, they are very likely to become instruments of evil rather than of good. Brown's family, I should think, are very likely to rise in life: industry and frugality, a good education, and a notion of making the best of it, are among the ordinary elements of worldly prosperity. It will be strange if these children should not grow up with an aptitude to turn their hand to any thing, a spirit of diligence and perseverance, and a notion of taking care of a little property, and turning it to a good_account in the accumulation of more. It would not at all surprise me to hear, a few years hence, of some of them being flourishing tradesmen. Many instances have occurred of lads, who began life | in no higher circumstances than the young Browns, rising to affluence. The great danger is of a spirit of pride and worldly-mindedness, an eager pursuit after wealth, and valuing themselves on their possessions, while God is not in all their thoughts. I have seen some instances of young people brought up like this family, who became very careful and frugal, perhaps parsimonious in general, yet who indulged some one expensive foible, by which, in spite of all their industry and frugality in other matters, they were kept poor. Fine tea, fine lace, fine horses, fine pictures, are among the selfish hobbies of this kind of people, who in every thing else grudge themselves and those around them the comforts and almost the necessaries of life. They are among the most disagreeable people with whom to form a family connexion. I do not say that my neighbours' children will exactly answer to any of the characters that I have described; but I do not hesitate to affirm in general, that the system of education pursued has a strong tendency to make them selfish in some way or other; and selfishness in all its varied forms is the sure bane of domestic happiness and social cheerfulness. But I have spoken first of the children; and what may be anticipated for the parents? Well, I really do not know enough of Mr. Brown to judge what may be his internal resources; what provision he has made for the evening of old age, when the heat and burden of the day of active life have passed by, and man is in a sense compelled to look within himself for his enjoyments; but from what I know of his wife, I can form some idea what kind of an old age she is likely to pass, unless indeed some great and favourable change in her views and disposition should introduce her to sources of enjoyment to which she is now, I fear, a total stranger. It is by no means certain that they will live to old age; but habits of industry and temperance are favourable to health and longevity; it is, therefore, probable that they may attain to that period of human existence from which so many are cut off by their own vices and follies. I can suppose Mrs. Brown's domestic cares greatly reduced; her children having grown up, and gone forth to provide for themselves. Yet I can fancy that her active disposition will not allow her to take repose from toils now no longer necessary. I can imagine that she will still take in her washing, and her needlework, and look as carefully after every penny as when it was needed for the support of her young family. I can suppose a comfortable provision laid up for her old age, and that she is still toiling, and urging her husband to toil, to add to it, and quite afraid to venture upon enjoying any part of it, or to slacken her exertions for this world, and turn her attention to another. From her long habit of scolding, I should fear that when her children have grown up and left her, she will continue to vent her scolding on her husband, and so imbitter the répose they might enjoy. When the infirmities of age come upon her, I should fear that she would be fretful, and peevish, and impatient under suffering; having no love for religion, no taste for reading, and finding leisure a weariness and burden. I cannot help on this occasion remarking, that all the struggles which can be made amidst the labour and bustle of providing for and managing a family, to secure the observance of the Sabbath, and the enjoyment of religious privileges, are abundantly requited in the capability acquired, and the sources opened for the enjoyment and improvement of the leisure of old age. Oh that my neighbour might be led now to cultivate an acquaintance with those sacred truths and holy influences which would refresh_her mind and sweeten her spirit amidst the passing cares of life, and which would afford her solace and support in the period when heart and flesh fail. But if it should not be so, if she should still go on toiling, and amassing for this world, and careless of another, what can be expected, as the result of all her labour, but " vanity and vexation of spirit," weariness and dissatisfaction in this life, and no heart-cheering, soul-sustaining hope for another? When we are eager in the pursuit of worldly good, how desirable is it that we should accustom ourselves to look beyond earth and time, and be concerned about the interests of eternity; else, whatever success may attend our worldly schemes, we are continually liable to the startling summons, "Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided?" Or, if living to old age without God in the |