HELPS FOR LESSONS ON THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE

YEAR.

SECOND QUARTER.—(APRIL-JUNE.)

APRIL.

IT has been well remarked, that "it is one of the excellent laws of Providence, that our minds shall be insensibly moulded to a sympathy with that season which is passing, and become deprived, in a certain degree, of the power of recalling the images of those which are gone by; whence we reap the double advantage of not being disgusted with the deadness of the wintry landscape, from a comparison with the hilarity of spring; and when spring itself appears, it comes with a freshness of beauty which charms us at once with novelty, and a recognition of old delights."

April is truly the month of hope and expectation, inspiring with similar feelings the farmer and the gardener, the inhabitant of the city and the resident in the country. Summer is at hand, and all hearts beat high with the prospect of pleasure or advantage. Yet the fickle character of this month is proverbial, and it is not uncommon to have every variety of weather in a single day.

Hasty showers descend to fertilize the earth, which are succeeded by those lovely gleams of sunshine, so beautifully expressed in the Sacred Volume as the "clear shining after rain." Soft and balmy breezes invite the tender blossom to unfold its delicate leaves, when all at once the bright blue sky is overcast with heavy clouds, and the sudden chill, forerunner of the driving hail, follows, and often nips it in the bud.

Nevertheless, according to the old adage,

"March winds and April showers
Bring forth May flowers."

And therefore, amidst all these alternations of weather, vegetation advances, and the bursting buds and opening flowers fully establish for this month its right to the name of April, a term derived from a word which means, "to open."

There is a cheerfulness, a joyousness, as well as activity, now visible throughout nature, truly refreshing and delightful. The air, the earth, the water, teems with millions of beings now waking into new life. All creation seems inspired with gladness, and man, catching the sympathy of reviving nature, feels the renovating influence of brighter days.

The frisking of the lambs, the gambols of the calf, the rapid flight of the swallow, and the ceaseless evolutions of the insect and feathered tribes in general, delight the eye; while the sense of hearing is equally regaled with the melody of the nightingale, the carolling of the lark, and the rich notes of the thrush and blackbird. Even the monotony of the cuckoo, who arrives about the middle of the month, is hailed with delight, from early association with this welcome season. Whilst all nature proclaims the praises of the great Creator, shall man alone be silent? Shall he who alone is gifted with

the power to sing with the understanding, enjoy the delights of this lovely month, feel new life and vigour thrill through every vein, and yet not raise the hymn of praise to the Giver of all his mercies?

In spite of chilling blasts, the rapid progress of vegetation is really surprising. The violets, which appeared in March in single flowers, just peeping from their early buds, now spread in myriads along the banks and hedgerows, and fill secluded lanes with their fragrance. The woods, towards the end of the month, are most exquisitely adorned with a perfect carpet of primroses, wood-anemones, blue-bells, and the delicate oxalis or wood-sorrel; the meadows and marshy grounds are gay with the cowslip, marsh-marigold, and cuckoo-flower, or lady-smock; and where is the country child who has not gone to the hedge-banks in April, to search for "lords and ladies ?" These are the curious flowers of the arum, which at first are closely wrapt up in a green sheath, which gradually unfolds and discloses a fleshy substance of a clublike form, and of a reddish purple colour, extending beyond the point on which the flowers are situated; the whole surrounded by bright green leaves, resembling those of spinach.

The blossoms of many of our larger trees are now peculiarly beautiful. The pendulous flowers of the birch hang like golden tassels; the ash-trees are black with large buds, which gradually unfold themselves into tufts of fibres, whence the keys afterwards depend: and the elm is perfectly shrouded in its hop-like blossoms, so beautiful, and yet so little observed, that, strange to say, the writer has known even educated men doubt their existence. The horse-chestnut, better known, opens its broad palmated leaves very early, and soon presents its handsome blossoms of a delicate white, tinged and beautifully marked with pink.

But that which forms the most interesting spectacle, not only on account of their beauty, but of their promise for the future, is the sight of our fruitbearing trees and shrubs now coming into full blossom, and which, if not destroyed by blight, or cut off by frost, will realize in after months the prospect that now cheers us. The blossoms of the peach and apricot lead the way, and are soon followed by the cherry, which becomes one mass of snow-white flowers. But before any of these appear, the blackthorn or sloe has whitened the hedge-rows with its bloom, and the almond has profusely adorned the gardens with its crowded pink flowers.

The swallow is one of the most welcome harbingers of spring, gladdening both our sense of seeing and hearing. There are four species of swallow known in Britain, which return in the following order:-1. The chimneyswallow, which builds in chimneys, and is remarkable for its long forked tail, and the reddish plumage which adorns its breast. 2. The window-swallow, or martin, which builds its nest under the eaves of houses: it may be known at once from the last, by its having the under part of the body of a clear white. 3. The sand-martin, the smallest of our swallows, which frequents the sandy banks of rivers, and there scoops out holes to the depth of two feet, where it deposits its eggs. 4. The swift, which, though it arrives later, departs earlier than any of the tribe; it is distinguished from others of the swallow family by its larger size and more rapid flight.

Not only these, but many other old acquaintances suddenly salute us in our walks. Whitethroats, robinchats, reed-sparrows, &c., perched in their old

haunts, and following their diversified habits, seem as little fatigued or strange, as if they had been invisible all the winter, and had never left the spot. The attachment of these migratory birds to the localities in which they were born is very interesting, It is known to be particularly strong in the swallow and martin. An interesting anecdote illustrative of this habit is related by Howitt :-"A lady had a nest of martins above her bedroom window, which by some accident fell, when the young were half fledged. She had them, four in number, laid in a basket lined with feathers in her chamber window, where the old birds fed them till they were able to fly. The following spring, four martins flew in at the window, which happened to stand open, flew round and round the room, uttering the most joyful warblings imaginable, then flew out again, and proceeded to build their nests just over the window." Who could doubt that these were the four identical birds of the basket?

There is something truly delightful to the lover of nature, in the beauty of birds' nests, and the endless variety of colours, spots, and curious scrolls on their eggs, and it is perhaps not to be wondered at that boys should be completely absorbed by their eagerness to possess them. But much might be done by a judicious teacher, in so regulating and directing this admiration, as to prevent many of the cruelties so continually exercised upon the helpless and innocent young ones when hatched. The more children are led to observe and admire the wonderful contrivance and beautiful execution, as well as the infinite variety, in the works of these interesting little creatures, and the more they are led to trace all to the goodness of God, "without whom not a sparrow falleth to the ground," the less will they be disposed to practise those cruelties which have so hardening an effect upon the character.

But the exact time for

The rural labours of the early part of this month are the same as those in March. Towards the end, as well as during May, top dressings of manure are applied to wheat, barley, and other crops. Bush-harrowing, stonepicking, and rolling grass lands, are also carried on. this must be regulated by the state of the weather, and the nature of the land. Sowing still continues of spring corn, peas, tares, lucerne, &c. Hops are poled, and the ground between the rows dressed. The barking of trees is another important operation of the present month, and the earlier it is done in the spring the better. As soon as the sap begins to rise, the bark will be easily detached from the wood, and it ought then to be removed without delay.

Before we close our notice of this month, we cannot help expressing our regret that the first day of it should still be disgraced by the absurd custom, which originated in ignorant and barbarous times, of making "April fools." It should be the care of every educator of youth to suppress an amusement which involves the practice of deceit and lying. The habit of uttering falsehoods in sport is exceedingly injurious to the young; it breaks down the barrier between right and wrong, and the approbation frequently bestowed for ingenuity in what is so erroneously termed "harmless lying," or "white lies," gives encouragement to the exercise of the same art and dissimulation, when the desire of concealing a fault, or any other temptation may arise. Let this text be early fixed in the minds of children,-"Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord."

MAY.

The relics of idolatry and barbarism may still be recognised in the name of this month, as well as in the fantastic dresses and antic movements of our chimney-sweepers on May-day. May is so called from Maia, a divinity under whose name the earth was worshipped by the Romans at this season of the year. The continuance of this, as well as of other appellations, such as the names given to the days of the week, &c., which had their origin in the times of darkest heathenism, may, by contrast, be profitably made use of to awaken in us a grateful sense of our own mercies, in being permitted to live under the pure light of Gospel truth. Far from desiring the revival of ancient customs, which have only antiquity for their recommendation, let us be thankful that the gross darkness which gave rise to them, has passed away from our land, and let it be our constant endeavour to train our youth to seek for purer pleasures and more rational enjoyments. These may be supplied in endless variety by the natural objects which surround them on every side; and by awakening their observation and stimulating their taste for such objects, we open to them pleasures innumerable on all hands.

Among the most attractive and delightful of the works of creation may be reckoned flowers, whose loveliness, it has been well remarked, “seizes on our affections the first moment we behold them. With what eagerness do infants grasp at flowers! As they become older, they bound about in the meadows like young fawns; they gather all they come near; they collect heaps; they sit among them, and sort them, and sing over them, and caress them, till they perish in their grasp." May and June are pre-eminently the months for wild flowers, before the scythe has commenced its work of destruction, when a comparative dearth of them ensues. It would be vain, in these limits, to attempt an enumeration of all the various kinds that strew our earth with beauty; but the cowslip may be mentioned, on account of its sweetness and utility. It affords a delightful occupation to children, in those districts where it abounds, and where the flowers are gathered for the purpose of making wine.

But, unless in very favourable seasons, we look in vain for the fulfilment of those glowing descriptions of the first of May in which our earlier poets delighted. It is not improbable that the seasons themselves have changed, and we must also remember that, owing to the alteration of the style, the first of May is twelve days earlier than it used to be, which gives another reason why we must not look for a realization of their poetical descriptions. Still, though we long with impatience for the absence of cold winds and frosty mornings, and earnestly desire the enjoyment of more genial skies, we do so in our ignorance; for a cold and windy May is considered favourable to the corn; which, if brought forward by early warm weather, is apt to run into stalk, while its ears remain thin and light. May is, however, in spite of every drawback, sufficiently profuse of beauties. The freshest and tenderest green surrounds us; the hedges, towards the end of the month, are rich in fragrance from the blossoms of the hawthorn, commonly called "may;" and the orchards display their highest beauty, in the delicate blush of the appleblossom. The cider counties, Worcestershire, Herefordshire, and Devonshire, present at this time the most luxuriant spectacle to the traveller.

N

Towards the end of the month, except in seasons of peculiar severity, the leafing of the trees is almost completed. It begins with the aquatic kinds, such as the willow, poplar, and alder; next the lime, sycamore, and elm, and then the beech, oak, ash, &c.

"No tree in all the grove but has its charms,
Though each its hue peculiar; paler some,
And of a wannish grey; the willow such,
And poplar, that with silver lines his leaf,
And ash, far stretching his umbrageous arm;
Of deeper green the elm; and deeper still,
Lord of the woods, the long surviving oak.
Some, glossy leaved, and shining in the sun,
The maple, and the beech, of oily nuts
Prolific, and the lime, at dewy eve
Diffusing odours: nor unnoted pass
The sycamore, capricious in attire,

Now green, now tawny, and, ere autumn yet

Have changed the woods, in scarlet honours bright."

CowPER.

Our gardens, too, daily increase in gaiety, continually presenting to our eyes some old friend revived with all the vigour and freshness of youth. This scene of beauty and fertility is, however, sometimes grievously ravaged by the various species of blight which peculiarly occur in this and the following month. All on a sudden we see a plant or shrub, previously in perfect health, covered with innumerable small insects, termed Aphides, and almost every plant has its own species of Aphis. The rapidity with which they multiply is perfectly astonishing. Vast numbers of eggs are closely glued to the twigs of such plants as they infest, and the young insects, when some favourable influence of sun or wind brings them forth, begin a work of devastation, which often destroys the fruitfulness of the tree for that season. Another form of blight is that called honey dew; of this it is said there are several kinds, for which different causes are assigned. The most probable cause for that which affects the honeysuckle, China rose, &c., seems to be, an excess of evaporation. The sudden and powerful operation of the sunbeams, after a drizzling rain, favours the perspiration of oxydized slime and of sweet drops, by which swarms of insects are invited, whose young broods overspread the surfaces of the leaves, and, by completely closing the pores, render them incapable of performing their functions. Blight often occurs also in the shape of what is called cuckoo's spittle; this is caused by an insect which sucks the juice of willows, grasses, &c., and gives it out again in foam. Many tender plants also wither under the keen blast of an easterly wind. Apt emblems of the uncertainty of human existence! "A wind passeth over them, and they are gone."

Towards the end of May the bees send forth their earliest swarms, and these are the most valuable, from their having time to lay in a plentiful store of honey during the flowering season. These busy insects, in addition to myriads of others, produce that delightful hum in the air, which charms us with the sensation that summer is really come. Added to this gentle harmony, a perfect chorus of bird-voices is everywhere heard. When all these melodies are hushed to silence, in the stillness of the midnight hour, the nightingale pours forth her song, filling the listener with delight. How