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Seven or eight kinds of seals are known in Iceland; they are of great importance to the natives on account of the flesh and oil, while their skins are used for clothing, and form an article of export. These animals are easily tamed, and soon become attached to their keeper. The morse or walrus occasionally visits Iceland. On the coast are found whales, the white fish, the dolphin, the porpoise, the

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fierce grampus, and the sea unicorn. The last-mentioned animal has no teeth, but instead of them a single tusk projecting in a spiral form. The length of this is often eight or ten feet. Among the birds the whistling swan is common; it is four feet long, and when the wings are extended, eight feet broad. In the long dark nights the wild whistling song of these birds is heard as they pass over the district, and is a very extraordinary music.

Such, my young friends, are a few facts concerning Iceland and the Icelanders. In another paper I will tell you something about other northern nations.

Santething about the Month of March.

“My sense is ravished when I see

This happy season's jubilee.
What shall I term it? A new birth,
The resurrection of the earth,
Which hath been buried, we know,
In a cold winding sheet of snow.
The winter's breath hath paved all o'er
With crystal the extended floor,
But now the earth is liveried
In verdant suits by sunlight dyed.” *
EEP no more,--sayeth an old author, and Peter
Parley loves old authors amazingly. “Weep no
more, faire weather is returned; the sunne is
reconciled to mankind, and his heat hath made
winter find his legges, as benumbed as they

were. The aire, not long since so condensed by frost that there was not room enough for the birds, seems now to be a great marginous space, where shrill musicians appear in the sky like little worlds, balanced by their proper centre." And so cometh in the month of March, but still with a furious bluster, as if new life was a glory to him, and he knew not how to make enough of it, and so he shouts, and capers, and holloas, and rollics, among the hills and vallies, like a madcap as he is, and as the old saying hath it,

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* Daniel Cadmore's Sacred Poems, 1658.

“ He comes in like a lion,

And goes out like a lamb.”

The first of March is a celebrated day among our noble brethren the Welsh, the remains of the old British race, of which England is justly proud. The first of March is St. David's Day, and on that day the Welsh wear the leek in their hats. Mr. Brady, in his “ Clavis Calendaria,” affirms that the custom of wearing the leek on St. David's Day is derived from St. David, who, according to him, caused the Britons under King Cadwaller to distinguish themselves from their enemies, by wearing leeks in their caps during a great battle, wherein they conquered the Saxons by virtue of their prayers; but this story seems to have little foundation, except the “Seven Champions of Christendom” be taken as an authority. It has been supposed, with more certainty, that wearing leeks about the time of the vernal equinox took its rise from the Druids, and that leeks were a Druidic symbol employed in the worship of the British Cendrea or Ceres. It seems very likely that the Druidical worship resembled the Phænician. Both were addicted to oak worship; and during the funeral rites of Adonis at Byblos, leeks and onions were exhibited in pots, with other vegetables, and called the gardens of that deity. The leek was worshipped at Ascalon, whence the modern term scallion, as it was ealled in Egypt. Leeks and onions were deported in the sacred chests of the mysterious bath of Isis and Ceres, and are found among the hieroglyphics. Sometimes a leek is on the head of Osiris, and at other times grasped in an extended hand, and thence, perhaps, the Italian proverb—Porro che nasce nella mano a leek that grows in the hand for a vesture. Porrus, a leek, is derived, by Bryant, from the Egyptian god Piorus, who is, perhaps, the same as the Baal Peor of the Phoeniceans, and as the Bel or Bellenis of the Druids. So much for leeks, which seem to make a considerable ingredient in Peter Parley's Literary porridge for the month of March.

But St. David; who was St. David ? My young readers would like to know something about St. David of Wales.

St. David, or, in Welsh, De Wid, Was son of Xanthus, Prince of Cardiganshire, brought up a priest, became a hermit in the Isle of Wight, afte rwards preache to the Britons, founded twelve monasteries, ate only bread and vegetables, and drank milk and water; he died in 544. According to another biographer of St. David, he was uncle to the

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famous Prince Arthur, or, strictly speaking, half uncle; and it is related of him that, on his way from building the Church of Glas. tonbury, he went to Bath, cured an infection of the waters, and by his prayers and benedictions gave them the perpetual heat they still retain.

The Welsh do honour to their patron saint; they are a warmhearted, thrifty, loyal and devoted race. Their country is worthy them, and they are worthy their noble country. Take the whole of the Principality, north and south, we have not a more varied, more beautiful; and more sublime country in the British possessions at home. South Wales is full of beautiful rivers, coasts, hills, and valleys; North Wales unites the stupendous and the grand with the beautiful, and Peter Parley was never more happy than when he wandered through the pass of Nant Francon, and the vale of Llanberis, and sauntered on the shore of the beautiful bay of Harlech, equal to any similar spot in England, Scotland, or Ireland. The Queen of England-God bless her, and keep her from all assaults of her enemies--ought to make a tour in Wales. She would receive such a welcome from her subjects there, as would surprise both Scotland and Ireland, however loyally they may have received her ; and if she were to knock up a little mountain box in the old castle of Harlech, and spend a few weeks there occasionally, it would please the Welsh amazingly, and I am sure Her Majesty would be pleased with the Welsh. The Prince of Wales, however, would be in some danger, for the Welsh would be ready to eat him alive in pure affection.

March is a busy month with the farmer. Now is the time for barley sowing, which requires dry weather; when sown, it is very

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