at the thicker end, by some effort of the internal animated creature, and it escapes through the lacerated integument; but in this instance, a perfectly formed long ovate segment burst from the thicker end, and fell detached on one side; and a dorsal suture. opened and gave an unimpeded egress to the vivified insect: from the remains of a fine filmy bag, at the apex of the displaced suture, it appeared that the liberation was effected by an expansion of air in that vessel, detaching it suddenly and perfectly from the surrounding envelope: but whatever the cause might be, a provision has been made for the free birth of this creature, in our imaginations perfectly unimportant, and even unknown but to a few, that manifests to any unprejudiced mind an original design, and that the most insignificant, equally with the higher order of beings, are the impartial objects of their Creator's bounty and care.'

Towards the end of the month, the Phalana humuli, called by some the ghost-moth, makes its appearance, and continues visible during the greater part of the month of June. The female glow-worm is now seen on dry banks, about woods, pastures, and hedgeways. For directions respecting the capture of insects in this and other months, we again refer to Mr. Samouelle's Introduction to British Entomology, as it is the only book where this, and a variety of other important information regarding insects can be obtained.

THE LARK.-This pleasing songster is our especial favourite; and who is there, that does not hail his notes with delight, and listen to them with rapture? Many a tribute, in the course of our lucubrations, have we offered to this interesting bird: we will yet add another and another. Some of our readers may have already seen the following pretty sketch, as it is taken from the Table Book' of the ingenious Mr. Hone; but this is, we think, of no import; it deserves to be removed to our collection of Natural History Curiosities, and will there shine like a jewel new set.'

The EVENING LARK.

I love thee better at this hour, when rest
Is shadowing earth, than e'en the nightingale:
The loudness of thy song, that in the morn
Rang over heaven, the day has softened down
To pensive music.

In the evening, the body, relaxed by the toil of the day, dis

poses the mind to quietness and contemplation. The eye, dimmed by close application to books or business, languishes for the greenness of the fields; the brain, clouded by the smoke and vapour of close rooms and crowded streets, droops for the fragrance of fresh breezes, and sweet-smelling flowers.

Summer cometh,
The bee hummeth,
The grass springeth,
The bird singeth,
The flower groweth,
And man knoweth

The time is come
When he may rove
Thro' vale and grove,

No longer dumb.

There he may hear sweet voices,
Borne softly on the gale;
There he may have rich choices
Of songs that never fail ;
The lark, if he be cheerful,

Above his head shall tower;

And the nightingale, if fearful,

Shall soothe him from the bower.

*

If red his eye with study,

If pale with care his cheek,

To make them bright and ruddy,
The green hills let him seek,

The quiet that it needeth

His mind shall there obtain;
And relief from care, that feedeth

A like on heart and brain.

The air was cool and fitful, playing with the leaves, as not caring to stir them; and as I strayed, the silence was broken by the voice of a bird-it was the tit-lark. 1 recognized his beautiful weet' and 'fe-er,' as he dropped from the poplar among the soft grass. Evening closed over me: the hour came

When darker shades around us thrown
Give to thought a deeper tone.

High in the cool and shadowy air rose the voice of a ský-lark, who had soared to take a last look at the fading day, singing his vespers. It was a sweeter lay than his morning or mid-day carol-more regular and less ardent-divested of the fervour and fire of his noontide song-its hurried loudness and shrill tones. The softness of the present melody suited the calm and gentle hour. I listened on, and imagined it was a bird I had heard in

the autumn of last year: I recollected the lengthy and well-timed
music-the cheer che-er,'-' weet, weet, che-er'-- wc-et, weet,
cheer' che-er,' weet, weet' cheer, weet, weet.' I still
think it to have been the very bird of the former season.
then he had seen

The greenness of the spring, and all its flowers;
The ruddiness of summer and its fruits;

And cool and sleeping streams, and shading bowers;
The sombre brown of autumn, that best suits
His leisure hours, whose melancholy mind

Is calmed with list'ning to the moaning wind,
And watching sick leaves take their silent way,
On viewless wings, to death and to decay.

Since

He had survived them, and had evaded the hawk in the cloud, and the snake in the grass. I felt an interest in this bird, for his lot had been like mine. The ills of life-as baleful to man as the bird of prey and the invidious reptile to the weakest of the feathered race had assailed me, and yet I had escaped. The notes in the air grew softer and fainter-I dimly perceived the flutter of descending wings-one short, shrill cry finished the song-darkness covered the earth-and I again sought human habitations, the abodes of carking cares, and heart-rending jealousies.

In this month, the orchis will be found in moist pastures, distinguished by its broad, black spotted leaves, and spike of large purple flowers. The walnut has its flowers in full bloom.

The banks of rills and shaded hedges are ornamented with the pretty tribe of speedwells, particularly the germander speedwell, the field mouse-ear, the dove's-foot crane's-bill, and the red campion; the two first of azure blue, and the two last of rose colour, intermixing their flowers with attractive variety. The country is now in perfection, every bush a nosegay, all the ground a piece of embroidery. The air, indeed, is enriched with native perfumes, and the whole creation seems to smile; on each tree we hear the voice of melody, and in every grove there is a concert of warbling music.

Of birds, there is a beautiful description in Mr. Montgomery's Pelican Island,' a poem to be read again and again, and every time with renewed plea

sure...

Birds, the free tenants of land, air, and ocean,
Their forms all symmetry, their motions grace;
In plumage, delicate and beautiful,

Thick without burthen, close as fishes' scales,
Or loose as full-blown poppies to the breeze;

With wings that might have had a soul within them,
They bore their owners by such sweet enchantment;-
Birds, small and great, of endless shapes and colours,
Here flew and perched, there swam and dived at pleasure;
Watchful and agile, uttering voices wild

And harsh, yet in accordance with the waves
Upon the beach, the winds in caverns moaning,
Or winds and waves abroad upon the water.
Some sought their food among the finny shoals,
Swift darting from the clouds, emerging soon
With slender captives glittering in their beaks;
These in recesses of steep crags constructed
Their eyries inaccessible, and trained
Their hardy broods to forage in all weathers:
Others, more gorgeously apparelled, dwelt
Among the woods, on Nature's dainties feeding,
Herbs, seeds, and roots; or, ever on the wing,
Pursuing insects through the boundless air:
In hollow trees or thickets these concealed
Their exquisitely woven nests; where lay
Their callow offspring, quiet as the down
On their own breasts, till from her search the dam
With laden bill returned, and shared the meal
Among her clamorous suppliants, all agape;
Then, cowering o'er them with expanded wings,
She felt how sweet it is to be a mother.
Of these, a few, with melody untaught,
Turned all the air to music within hearing,
Themselves unseen; while bolder quiristers
On loftiest branches strained their clarion-pipes,
And made the forest echo to their screams
Discordant, yet there was no discord there,
But tempered harmony; all tones combining,
In the rich confluence of ten thousand tongues,
To tell of joy, and to inspire it. Who
Could hear such concert, and not join in chorus?
Not I. Sometimes entranced, I seemed to float
Upon a buoyant sea of sounds: again
With curious ear I tried to disentangle
The maze of voices, and with eye as nice
To single out each minstrel, and pursue
His little song through all its labyrinth,
Till my soul entered into him, and felt

M

Every vibration of his thrilling throat,

Pulse of his heart, and flutter of his pinions.
Often, as one among the multitude,

I sang from very fulness of delight;
Now like a winged fisher of the sea,
Now a recluse among the woods, enjoying
The bliss of all at once, or each in turn.

The lilac, the barberry, and the maple, are now in flower. At the latter end of the month rye is in ear; the mountain-ash, laburnum, the guelder-rose, clover, columbines, with their singular and fantastic nectaries,—the alder, the wild chervil, the wayfaring tree, or wild guelder-rose, and the elm, have their flowers full blown.

The various species of meadow grass are in flower. The buttercup spreads over the meadows; the coleseed in corn fields; bryony, the arum, or cuckoo-pint, in hedges; the Tartarian honeysuckle, and the Corchorus Japonica, now show their flowers. The hawthorn (white and pink) is usually in blossoin about the middle or end of the month.

April hath shed prolific showers,

And now May opes her own sweet flowers,
Thy head is white as snow;
Fragrant and poignant is the smell,
Soon shall thy dark green berries swell,
And into coral grow.

The principal show of tulips takes place in this month (see T.T. for 1824, p. 158). The dazzling and gorgeous appearance of beds of tulips cannot fail to attract the notice of the most indifferent observer; some varieties of this elegant flower are very splendid, and unrivalled for the beauty of their exquisite colours.

Some ingenious observations on the colours of plants, we extract from Dr. Drummond's First Steps to Botany, p. 252.

The underside of leaves, in general, he observes, is much paler than the upper, and most flowers, even the thousand-coloured tulip,' is green until it expands, and experiences the contact of