By nipping winds. See how in ether floats The light-winged mass,-then, mantling o'er the field, And silvers earth. All to thine influence yield, NO. III.-CLEAR FROST. 'Tis noon, the heaven is clear without a cloud; The inefficient sunbeams glance and glow: Of mingling crowds!-in graceful curves how swings The dulcet tones which music landward flings.- NO. IV. MOONLIGHT. Behold the mountain peaks how sharply lined Walks mid thin stars, whose lustre has declined. The trees Sleep in their stilly leaflessness; while, lost Oh! sweetly beautiful it is to mark The virgin, vernal snow-drop! lifting up- Of blossomed greenery, perfume-glowing bowers, As by her aureate trees Pomona sits, The reapers' chant, beneath the mellowing sky; And, mocking earth, bid man's thoughts point on high. NO. VI. CONCLUSION. All things round us preach of death; yet mirth And had our everlasting home on earth!— To fit us for a dread eternity. Hear, ye that watch with faith's unslumbering eye, We have already observed, that water-fowl are driven from the marshes to the open streams in this month; the coot (Fulica atra) is one of these emigrants. In Norfolk, it breeds on those large pieces of water called 'Broads,' and on some of them in considerable numbers. In autumn and winter, these birds make their appearance on the rivers in vast flocks; and upon an appointed day, all the boats and guns are put in requisition, and a general attack is made upon them. On the banks of the Stour, the fowlers approach them, while sitting upon the ooze, by concealing themselves behind a screen made of bushes, which is placed upon a sledge, and driven before them.-On crossing the Stour (observe Messrs. Sheppard and Whitear) in the month of January, 1819, in a dead calm, we observed the coots floating upon the water in a semicircle. On our approach within about 200 yards, the whole body, amounting at the least calculation to several thousands, partly rose and flapped along the surface of the water, making a tremendous rushing noise. Had there been any wind, they would have risen into the air without difficulty; but there being none, they could scarcely disentangle their feet. Foxes frequent the banks of the Stour very early in the morning, to catch the wounded birds, who generally make to land, and of which there are sometimes great numbers. The larger kind of gulls often attack and devour coots. We have observed the latter, on the approach of their enemy, rush together from all quarters, and form a close, round, compact body, appearing like bees in the act of swarming. The gull kept hovering over their heads, and frequently dashed within a yard or two of them. Whenever he flew to a distance, the coots dispersed, and again at his return flocked together; and this scene continued for more than half an hour. The coot is soon reconciled to confinement, and becomes domestic.-Linn. Trans. vol. xv, Part I, pp. 48-50. In this most fierce and inhospitable of all months, besides the beautiful features we have noticed, we are, ever and anon, presented with momentary smiles and isolated instances of vegetable life, which come, as it were, to keep the heart from withering, amidst the despondency of this season of deadness. The Helleborus niger, or Christmas rose, expands its handsome, white chalices, undaunted by the sharpest frosts, and blooms amidst overwhelming wreaths of snow, long before that poetical and popular favourite the snowdrop dares emerge from its shrouding earth. The rosemary also blooms this month,-a plant alike esteemed and employed by our ancestors in festive and funereal ceremonies. The old chorus with which the boar's-head, garnished with rosemary, was introduced, has been rendered familiar to all ears by the pleasant pen of Geoffrey Crayon; and its use, in the decoration of coffins, has derived a melancholy interest from that of H. K. White'.Mr. Bowring, in his Specimens of the Polish Poets,' has the following beautiful poem on the subject of the Rosemary : The ROSEMARY WREATH. I would not have thy riches, sweet! But give me, give me, lovely maid! The rosemary wreath that crowns thy head. 1 See T.T. for 1814, p. 23. note. It will not, cannot make thee poor; And take the wreath, so give it me ;- The rosemary wreath that crowns thy head. So give me, give me, lovely maid! The rosemary wreath that crowns thy head. For such a trifling gift as this A few frail flowers that soon must die, To find a friend-eternally! Then give me, give me, lovely maid! The rosemary wreath that crowns thy head. In the cheerless months of winter, when our fields are no longer attractive, and present to the eye only the melancholy aspect of decayed nature, the seashore offers to the botanist a rich field for contemplation. At all seasons, the sea-girt rocks are luxu riantly mantled with sea-weeds, and every storm scatters upon the beach some new object of his admiration. See our last vol., p. 21, for an interesting ar ticle on the Alga, or sea-weeds, by MR. ANDREW KERR YOUNG, of Paisley, forming the first of a series of papers on Scotian Botany, for every month in the year. Consult also Drummond's First Steps to Botany, second edition. Mild, and even sunny days, sometimes break the sullen monotony of January, which the country people look upon less with a pleased, than a foreboding eye,-denominating them weather-breeders. Whilst they are present, however, whatever consequences they may be chargeable with, they are extremely grateful. Gnats will even be seen to issue from their secret dormitories, to dance in the longwithheld rays of the sun. We have seen the leaves of the primrose shooting up vigorously beneath warm hedges at such times; and moles, feeling the ground released from its frosty bondage, begin to burrow and throw up their heaps of fresh and crumbling mould. Earth-worms also may be sometimes observed. The WORM. [From the German of Overbeck.] Thou tiny worm, that scarce can hold No balmy drops of summer dew Where thou would'st oft thy travels cease, Upon thy now deserted bed Thou stretchest forth thy feeble head; |