occur near the equinoxes and last but a little
while, but in the regions corresponding to our
temperate zone, they are of long duration.
Apart from eclipse the rings lighten for Saturn
the short summer nights, and lie perhaps as a
halo under the sun during the short winter days.

FATHERS.

TIME, who is the Edax rerum, has become most
voracious in this, the latter half of the nineteenth
century. Previous to the era of the " latter
half" he was in no hurry over his meals. He
masticated his victuals well, and fully digested
one dish before he attacked another. But now,
as if he were getting gluttonous in his old age,
he gobbles up the whole feast the moment it is
set before him. It is really alarming to see
that old man with the scythe sitting at a bench,
outside the Half-way House, devouring pounds
of the world's sausages and quartern loaves, as
if he were eating for a wager! It makes one
quite nervous to look at him. What if he should
over-eat himself, upset the sand-glass, and die of
a surfeit—thus putting an end at once to
himself and the century!

When the old gentleman first began to be
gluttonous he made a light meal of the most
substantial things. Stage-coaches were a wafer,
which he took one morning with his cup of
coffee; rotten boroughs, and the system thereto
pertaining, were a game pasty (rather high),
which he disposed of at lunch; the wooden walls
of old England, that pièce de résistance under
which his board had so long groaned, was
polished off to the last morsel at dinner;
commercial duties were a thin slice of bread-and-
butter for his tea, and religious disabilities
served him for a light supper. And he had
little snacks between whiles.

Mark how he snapped up the old-fashioned
father at a mouthful. There is not a vestige of
him left. He is clean gone: high-collared coat,
short waistcoat, strapped pantaloons, terrestrial
globe, compasses, retort and all. There is not
so much as a brass button of him remaining.

The old patriarchal father, who began with
Abraham, lasted a long time. He was such
a very tough morsel, I suppose that Edax
could not make up his mind to tackle him until
he was fairly obliged, by the terms of his wager,
to clear him off the plate. This being a fast,
go-a-head, flippant, unbelieving, irreverent age,
no one will be either surprised or shocked if I
express the opinion that the old-fashioned father
was a bit of a humbug. I don't think he meant
to be a humbug; but the nature of his position
imposed upon him a certain deportment, which
he was bound by the law and custom of society
to maintain.

The patriarchs of old treated their sons as
part of their chattels, and were rather their lords
and masters than their " affectionate parents."
This phrase is, in itself, a witness to the fact
that the patriarchal rendering of the popular
part of father was adhered to until very recent
times. Children, writing home from school,
address their fathers and mothers as their " dear
parents." In Lord Chesterfield's time, this
would have been regarded as an undue
familiarity. Indeed, for long after that elegant but
mortal lord made his final bow to the world, a
boy was accustomed to address his father as,
"Honoured Sir," and his mother as, " Honoured
Madam." A father, then, was a sort of Jove
to his children. The high, solemn, and severe
pinnacle upon which he sat marked him out as
a being of a superior order. Love was not so
much his attribute as justice. No Magna
Charta, or bill of rights, or habeas corpus, had
invaded the sphere of his dominion. He was
judge, jury, witness, and executioner all in
one. The good mother, Queen Philippa, might
plead for the offenders; but their pardon was
granted to her as a favour, not as a right. I
am not very old, but I can remember the time
when almost every father in Great Britain kept
a strap, or a cane, for the special purpose of
correcting his children. I had one of the
kindest, fondest, most indulgent fathers that
ever a boy was blessed with; but, in accordance
with the paternal custom, which prevailed even
at the time of the Reform Bill, he kept a three-
tailed strap for the castigation of his boys. I
was rarely punished with it; but I can remember
every feature of that strap as vividly and
distinctly as if it were now hanging up before
me on that nail, where it so long hung over our
heads, like the sword of Damocles. I can count
the cracks in its tails, one of which was shorter
than the others, and gave the idea of a little
finger on a three-fingered hand. It is not
because this strap made an impression, physical
or moral, upon me, that I can remember it so
distinctly, but because it was an institution. I
associate it with the household gods, with the
eight-day clock, the barometer, and the family
Bible. There was a writer and grainer's flourish
at the end of the table of the Ten Commandments
in church, and that flourish was in the
likeness of the strap. In my eyes the one was
as much an institution as the other.

We all remember how these fathers treated
us. They loved us of course, and were proud
of us, but it was not the paternal thing to show
that they entertained those natural—and therefore
undignified—sentiments towards us. We
were kept under. We were taught, like
servants and humble dependents, to know our
place, which was the nursery. We were not
allowed to sit at table with our parents. We
dined at another hour of the day, the governess
or the housekeeper presiding at the head of the
table. Our food was inferior to that which
was reserved for our parents; our dress, too,
was inferior. In many parts of the country
corduroy was the badge of all our tribe. We
went into the grand apartment, the paternal
Star Chamber, to make obeisance to our parents,
as people go to court. We had our faces
washed and our hair brushed for the solemn
occasion, and we were carefully tutored to make
bows and say " please." How many times,