The lion would not leave her desolate, But with her went along, as a strong guard Of her chaste person, and a faithful mate Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard: Still, when she slept, he kept both watch and ward; And, when she waked, he waited diligent, With humble service to her will prepared: From her fair eyes he took commandëment, And ever by her looks conceivèd her intent. _From “The Faerie Queene.”_ Una is the heroine of the first Book of Spenser’s “Faerie Queene.” She appears to have been intended, at least in part, as a poetical impersonation of Truth. At all events, she is one of the sweetest and loveliest visions that ever issued from a poet’s brain. [a] l. 2. In Spenser’s time the endings _sion_, _tion_, as also _cian_, and various others, were often used as two syllables. [b] l. 13. That is, _handling_, in the sense of _treatment_. Here, again, we have a relic of ancient usage. So, too, in _commandement_, in the last stanza of this piece. And in many other like words the old poets often make two syllables where we now make but one. [c] l. 18. An old witch named Duessa, painted and dressed up into a false show of beauty, and dealing in magic arts. She had lied and cheated the red-cross Knight, the hero of the story, out of his faith in Una and beguiled him with her mighty spells. [d] l. 32. _undight_, took off. l. 33. _stole_, a long, loose garment reaching to the feet. l. 48. _weet_, understand. l. 64. _Redounding_, flowing. PURITY OF CHARACTER. OVER the plum and apricot there may be seen a bloom and beauty more exquisite than the fruit itself--a soft delicate flush that overspreads its blushing cheek. Now, if you strike your hand over that, and it is once gone, it is gone forever; for it never grows but once. The flower that hangs in the morning impearled with dew, arrayed with jewels, once shake it so that the beads roll off, and you may sprinkle water over it as you please, yet it can never be made again what it was when the dew fell lightly upon it from heaven. On a frosty morning you may see the panes of glass covered with landscapes, mountains, lakes, and trees, blended in a beautiful fantastic picture. Now lay your hand upon the glass, and by the scratch of your fingers, or by the warmth of the palm, all the delicate tracery will be immediately obliterated. So in youth there is a purity of character which when once touched and defiled can never be restored--a fringe more delicate than frost-work, and which, when torn and broken, will never be reëmbroidered. When a young man leaves his father’s house, with the blessing of his mother’s tears still wet upon his forehead, if he once loses that early purity of character, it is a loss he can never make whole again. DELIGHTS OF READING. SIR JOHN LUBBOCK.