1S56.] The Seventh Trial. 



245 



through it with impunity, and the tiniest insect waves it aside with its 

 wing. It ministers lavishly to all the senses. We tou:h it not, but it 

 touches us. Its warm south winds bring back color to the pale face of 

 the invalid ; its cool west winds refresh the fevered brow, and make the 

 blood mantle in our cheeks; even its north blast braces into new vio-or 

 the hardened children of our rugged climate. ° 



The eye is indebted to it for all the magnificence of sunrise, the full 

 brightness of midday, and the clouds that cradle near the setting sun 

 But for it the rainbow would want its - triumphal arch," and the°winds 

 would not send their fleecy messengers on errands round the heavens- 

 the cold, either, would not shed snowy feathers on the earth, nor would 

 drops of dew gather on the flowers; the kindly rain would never fill 

 nor hail-storm nor fog diversify the face of the sky. Our naked ..lobe 

 would turn its tanned and unshadowed forehead to the sun aud^ one 

 dreary monotonous blaze of light and heat dazzle and burn up all things 

 Were there no atmosphere, the evening sun would in a m<.ment set and 

 without warning plunge the earth in darkness. But the air keeps in 

 her hand a sheaf of his rays, and lets them slip but slowly throurrh her 

 fingers, so that the shadows of evening are gathered by de'^rees and the 

 flowers have time to bow their heads, and each creature space to find a 

 place of rest, and to nestle to repose. In the morning, i\,^ garish sua 

 would at one bound burst from the bosom of night, and blaze above the 

 horizon ; but the air watches for his coming, and sends at first but one 

 little ray to announce his approach, and then another, and by and by a 

 handful, and so gently draws aside the curtain of night, and slowly lets 

 the l.ght fall upon the face of the sleeping earth, till her eye-lids open 

 and like man, she goes forth again to her labors till the evening 



THE seve:\tii triai^. 



There has always been a mystic reputation for the number seven, and 

 although the number of believers in such things may be less in these 

 latter da^^s than formerly, yet they will all notice that the French attack 

 on the MalakofF was only successful on the seventh assault. The amia- 

 ble Pehssier must believe in number seven, for his first start in life was 

 when he was thrown, by request, into an Arab fort, from which the 

 French troops had been six times repulsed. In the Crimea he probably 

 remembered th.s; and the story of Bruce, who, when a prisoner, watched 



