ration of the caterpillar from the inside of it, it is wonderful how the junction of the new with the old bark was effected with the extreme nicety with which it is seen, and also how the case was closed up when nearly completed.

In another instance, a caterpillar of the same species of moth made its case on some old paling, and the colour of the wood was completely imitated. I consider these as amongst the most curious specimens of insect architecture, I have met with, and they afford proofs of the instinct implanted by a benevolent Creator in insignificant insects for their preservation. No wet can penetrate, and no bird could discover, or get at the imbedded cocoon. I can only regret the difficulty of giving an adequate idea of this curious structure.

I may also mention another interesting fact relating to moths. It is that they invariably, I believe, turn into cocoons on the south or warm side of trees, and never on the north sides.

It is always pleasing to watch the first emancipation of butterflies, and moths from their wintery cells on a balmy day in spring. Every thing then is so fresh, so joyous and delightful. These pretty insects settle on the newly-expanded flower, and flit about in the sunshine, or hover in the calm and tranquil evening beneath a spreading oak. It is then we may be reminded of that beautiful and allegorical description of the Spring, in the Song of Solomon

"Lo! the winter is past, the rain is over, and gone.

"The flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.

"The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away."

I have been so much in the habit of looking at the works of nature with the eyes of a lover, that I frequently describe with a minuteness that may appear unnecessary, and dwell on subjects which may be thought by others unworthy of notice. Many objects have beauties which strike me, but which cursory observers would regard as trifles, or of common occurrence. The arrival of our little summer birds of passage, the streamlet overhung with willows, the rustling of a breath of air amongst the foliage of a tree, the sweet warbling of the early lark, while the dew-drops are sparkling on the greensward, the glittering flies settling on a waving rush, the silvery moon reflected on the calm water; these, and a thousand delightful scenes and objects, make nature so lovely, so interesting, and at the same time so various, that I ever woo her charms, and hail all her productions with joy.

When a taste is once acquired of examining the many objects which every where surround us, and solicit our attention, we have a source of interesting amusement opened to us, the tendency of which is to create in the mind a fondness for rational entertainment, and to fit it for the best impressions of kindness and a love of virtue.

"Our

good father Isaac Walton," said something like this with respect to honest anglers, but he and his anglers were fond of nature, and they found her by the sides of trout-streams, or beneath the shade of a graceful beech tree. Here the kind old man discoursed with his scholar on the works of the Great Creator, and the charms of the surrounding scenery, till, at the close of evening, the milk-maid sung her sprightly lay, and the little hostelry received and refreshed them. Here their weary limbs reposed in sheets perfumed with lavender, while the woodbine and jessamine clustered round their windows, and appeared to invite them, in the early dawn, to inhale their sweets when mingled with the "breath of morn." It is at such moments that the grateful offerings of the heart are most fervent, and therefore most acceptable to Him, who dwells with those of a quiet and peaceful spirit, those who look up to Him as the Guardian of their lives, and the Creator of all around them.

My God! all nature owns Thy sway,
Thou giv'st the night, and then the day!
When all Thy lov'd creation wakes,
When morning, rich in lustre, breaks,
And bathes in dew the opening flower,
To Thee we owe her fragrant hour,
And when she pours her choral song,
Her melodies to Thee belong.

The Swallow knows her time,
And, on the vernal breezes, wings her way,
O'er mountain, plain, and far-extending seas,
From Afric's torrid sands to Britain's shore.

GRAHAME.

WHEN I was last at Paris, I saw women going about with numbers of Swallows in cages, which were occasionally purchased by persons for the pleasure of giving them freedom. I must confess that I was sorry to see these joyous birds in a state of confinement. There is so much hilarity in all their movements, their song is so sweet, and they nestle with so much confidence about our houses, that I have always regarded them with peculiar affection and pleasure. These have not been lessened by the following account, for which I am indebted to the kindness of a clergyman; many of the clergy have sent me much pleasing information. I cannot do better than copy his own words.

"Five or six years ago, three swallows fell down one of the chimnies of my house. Their naked and helpless condition having excited the pity of my family, it was determined to endeavour to rear them. I, therefore, became their foster-parent: for rainy days they were fed with egg, and in sunny weather with various species of flies. I found it,

however, a very difficult task to supply them with a sufficient number. I could only do so by sweeping the heads of umbelliferous plants with my flynet. All the swallow tribe continue in their nests a very long time before they take their first flight; but I was anxious that my protegées should exercise their wings as soon as possible, and thus prepare themselves for emigration. I, therefore, threw them into the air as soon as I could do so prudently. At first they appeared much alarmed, and clung to the nearest object they could fasten upon; but in a few days they not only flew about, but caught their food expertly. Some time, however, elapsed before they could satisfy the cravings of appetite through their own exertions. This occasioned them frequently to appeal to me for assistance in a manner too intelligible to be mistaken. They would utter a plaintive cry in flying around me, and sometimes settle upon me. On these occasions, I usually led to those places, where the inula dysenterica (asters) abounded, from the flowers of which I easily captured various species of syrphi in the hollow of my hand. It was truly amusing to observe the eagerness with which the movement of my hand was watched, and with what voracity the produce of my efforts were devoured. As soon as my birds could fly, an open basket, having a perch across it, was set apart for their use: here they rested by day and roosted at