the mole, have not noticed this circumstance. An intelligent mole-catcher, who has been employed by the Crown for many years in Richmond Park, was the first to inform me of this curious fact, which has since been confirmed to me by another mole-catcher. The clay-basin formed by the mole will sometimes contain nearly a peck of worms. On examining them, each will be found to have been bitten near the head, and in such a way that it is not quite deprived of life. These basins appear to be formed in the winter, but to have the chief supply of worms deposited in them during the spring months. It has been suggested to me that as the young of the mole are very tender and require considerable warmth, it is not improbable that the parents make this provision against the breeding season, in order to prevent the necessity of their quitting them for any length of time in search of food. Should this be the case, it is a curious fact in the history of these animals.

The Owl is another animal, the utility of which is not sufficiently known, and it is, therefore, destroyed most recklessly by game-keepers and country people generally. Occasionally a more enlightened farmer may be met with, who, aware of the benefits he derives from this bird, will afford it admission into his barns; but this is not enough. Farmers generally, and the proprietors of land and manors should use their influence

for the careful protection of this nocturnal wanderer.

Mr. Waterton has ably and most agreeably advocated the cause of these interesting birds. Like himself, I have been a careful observer of them, and have also examined the places of their retreat. There pellets of mice may be seen in abundance, but I never found a feather, or the slightest indication that birds of any kind, either old or young, had formed part of the prey of the owl. The charge against this bird of its sucking eggs is equally erroneous. It lives in perfect harmony with pigeons in the dove-cot, who appear neither to fear or to avoid it.

The owl is a great favourite with me, and I like to see it flying softly and silently along the side of a hedge-row, or under a spreading oak, when The Moon, in maiden beauty, walks the blue

And glorious canopy of crystal heaven,

In purity supreme.

There are few scenes in nature more beautiful than a moon-light night, especially, when the glorious luminary may be seen apparently wading amidst the clouds, which sometimes obscure it, and as they hurry past, again bursting forth in all its beauty. The owl, the night-jar, the flitting bat, and even the sullen hum of the beetle, add to the charm of this nocturnal scenery. How cold must that heart be which is not then lifted up

with love and gratitude to the Great Creator, who, amongst his other blessings, has placed the moon as 66 an ornament in the high places of the Lord." Nor can we forget at such a moment, Pope's beautiful description of this luminary in his translation of Homer.

As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,

O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light;
When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene;
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole;
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
And tip with silver ev'ry mountain's head;
Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise;
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies;
The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight,
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.

A huge Oak, dry and dead

Still clad with reliques of its trophies old,
Lifting to heaven its aged, hoary head-
With wreathed roots, and naked arms,
And trunk all rotten and unsound.

SPENSER.

It is an interesting fact that the morning after the king of Prussia arrived at Windsor Castle, in order to be present at the christening of the Prince of Wales, the whole of His Majesty's suite, including the celebrated Baron Humboldt, enquired their way to Herne's Oak. This was the first object of their attention and curiosity, and probably of their veneration. The splendours of the castle, its pictures, the noble scenery surrounding it, and the many historical facts connected with it, were objects of inferior interest, compared to a single withered, time-destroyed tree, yet rich with recollections of the genius of our immortal Shakspeare. On arriving at the sacred tree, it was gazed at in silence, but each of the party gathered a leaf from the ivy which is now clinging to the decaying trunk, as a relic which they intended to carry back to their own country, to be shewn there as one of no common

interest. The nobleman who accompanied the party to the tree, acquainted me with this little anecdote, and I must confess that it afforded me no small degree of gratification. Pleasing as it is to see foreigners hasten to look at a tree which our great bard has immortalized, it is still more so to have the perfect conviction, that if any tree in the park has a right to be considered as the real Herne's Oak, it is the tree in question. In a former work, I ventured to give this opinion, and facts which have since come to my knowledge have only served to confirm it. In that work, a very imperfect representation of the tree was given. By the kindness of Mr. Starke, whose paintings of forest scenery are so well known, and so highly appreciated, I am now enabled to give a more perfect, or rather, an exact

one.

The discussion which has taken place with respect to the identity of the tree, has occasioned some degree of interest on the subject, nor do I think that that interest has yet subsided. At all events I feel sure, that the admirers of our immortal bard will thank me for my endeavours to prove the claim, which this tree has to be called "Herne's Oak."

The discussion I have referred to was commenced in an article in the Quarterly Review on Mr. Loudon's Arboretum, in which an attack,