they draw up the leaves, grass, and other nourishment; and by these fix the fore part of the body till they have drawn up the hinder part. The hinder feet they use to hold themselves fast, and to grasp whatever they rest upon. When upon a twig or a leaf they can seize another at a considerable distance; for, hooking their hinder feet upon whatever they rest, they elevate the fore part of the body, standing almost erect, move in all directions, poise themselves in the air, and turn round, reach their food, and hold it with their hooks. However well the body of the caterpillar is adapted to its necessities, its state is very transitory; its limbs last only a short time; and this creeping worm soon becomes a chrysalis without feet and withcut motion, till it becomes a winged inhabitant of the air.

From this circumstance only, caterpillars should claim some share of our attention. Towards the end of summer, and frequently sooner, after being satiated with verdure, and having changed their skins more than once, they cease to eat, and begin to construct a habitation, where they leave the caterpillar state, and are transformed into butterflies; this place of shelter is called the chrysalis, and is of an oval form; towards the extremity are rings, which continue diminishing till they are lost in a point. The chrysalis is full of milky fluid, which supplies the infant butterfly with nourishment till it comes out. When it is completely formed, and its parts have acquired a proper degree of consistence, and a gentle warmth invites it forth from its prison, it forces a passage through the largest end, which is at the same time the thinnest part of the chrysalis. Its head, which was always directed towards this end, disengages itself, the antennæ project and lengthen, the feet and wings extend, and the insect flies away, retaining nothing of its former shape: the caterpillar which was changed into a chrysalis, and the chrysalis which became a butterfly, being quite different creatures. The one is rough, hairy, and sometimes of a disagreeable aspect; the other is decked in the most beautiful colours: the one is doomed to crawl upon the earth, while the other lightly skims from flower to flower, and delicately sips their nectare

ous sweets.

Perhaps this description will conquer the aversion that some people have to these insects, and reconcile them with their existence; but perhaps there will yet be many who will ask for what purpose insects, which devour the leaves and occasion the trees to be blighted, were created? To such I answer that they are necessary links in the great chain of animal life; and without them the world would be less perfect than it is. Destroy them entirely, and you would deprive the birds of a most plentiful source of nourishment; and surely, if birds are destined to feed upon caterpillars, whatever be our loss, we cannot with justice exclude these insects from feeding upon leaves. And even if we cannot comprehend the reason why God formed such creatures, surely we ought not to assert that they are useless; we should rather acknowledge our ignorance, and bow before him who is all-wise.

JUNE XXI.

BEGINNING OF SUMMER.

On this day summer begins. Many of us have often seen the changes which constantly take place at this season of the year; but have we considered why the sun continues so long above the horizon, why this is the longest day in the year, and why, from this time till the end of autumn, we perceive the heat and the length of the days diminish in the same proportion? All these changes proceed from the annual revolution of our globe round the sun. When this star enters the tropic of Cancer, the earth is so situated, that the whole of its north pole is turned towards the sun; for the earth's axis is inclined towards the north, and it invariably preserves this direction. On this inclination, and the parallelism of the earth's axis, the vicissitudes of the seasons depend. And who, that considers the consequences which would ensue if the direction of the axis had been perpendicular, will withhold his admiration and gratitude for that superior wisdom which has thus regulated it for the advantage of man?

Nature has now nearly finished her annual labour in our climate. She has already lost part of her variety; and though nothing can be more beautifully green than the vines, the orchard, and the forests, the shades begin to be less pleasing; the meadows whiten, and the flowers are cut down; the corn gradually grows yellow, and the rich colouring of nature diminishes. The diversity and brightness of this, and the varied notes of numerous birds, had lately all the charms of novelty, and cheered us with their sweet variation: but now, as autumn approaches, these enjoyments cease; the nightingale is silent, and walking is inconvenient from the excessive heat.

From this picture we may form an emblem of life, the pleasures of which are equally fugitive; even the most innocent, such as nature offers us during the spring, fade, and give place to other objects; and what we now witness in the summer of nature, we may observe in the summer of life.

As we advance in years, the pleasures which delight us in our youth no longer affect us; and when we have attained the autumn. of our days, we become subject to cares and anxieties to which we formerly were strangers; as our age increases, our bodily powers diminish; till at length, after many a weary day, the period arrives when, feeble and exhausted, we have no longer a pleasure in exist

ence.

With what a lively sense of joy may the good man lift up his soul to thee, O Lord! who directest the seasons, who art the Father of all things, and the source of all happiness! Let us acknowledge thy wisdom and thy goodness in causing the seasons to succeed each other in a regular order; and may we never forget thee when we enjoy the blessings which summer scatters over the earth, and expe

rience the pleasures which smile in her train! Let us reflect that this may be the last summer which we may be permitted to see on earth; and consider how soon we may be called to join the numerous friends who have been removed from this transitory scene since the last summer's sun beamed light and beauty upon our sphere.

JUNE XXII.

THE NIGHTINGALE.

The nightingale is one of the sweetest songsters among the inhabitants of the groves. When all the birds that cheered us during the day with their varied notes cease to be heard, the song of the nightingale swells upon the air, and animates the groves. When we rapturously listen to her voice, pouring melody in the woodlands, we are ready to conclude that the bird from which such sounds proceed must be large, and possess a throat of uncommon strength; and her sweet accents make us presume that, as she excels in harmony, so she surpasses the feathered race in beauty.* But we shall look in vain for these perfections in the nightingale; which is a bird of rather a mean appearance, having nothing particularly attractive either in form or plumage; yet it is gifted by nature with a voice that fills us with ecstacy, and pours rapture through all our frame. How exquisite is our delight when we listen to her long quivering notes, and hear her sweet variations, now gently warbling, then gradually swelling into inconceivable force and rapidity; alternating plaintive accents that sooth the soul to melancholy, with gay airs that raise it upon lightsome wings to joy and pleasure: she rapidly passes from the simplest notes to the wildest carols, from the lightest turns and quavers to slow melting strains that languish upon the breeze, then softly die away, and leave the night-wanderer silently to retrace his homeward steps.

This bird may give rise to many useful reflections; from it we may learn a very wholesome truth, that plainness of person does not exclude beauty of soul, but may be allied to the most estimable qualities. How absurdly and erroneously do those people judge, who, fascinated by a regular contour of face, beautiful countenance, and elegant proportion of limb, only bestow their approbation upon what pleases their senses, and despise or disregard such as labour under bodily infirmities, or are not gifted by nature with the graces of per

*As to the idea of connecting beauty with melody in a bird, unless the author means that the bird which utters strains like those of the nightingale cannot be otherwise than beautiful, I believe it is not always the case; for those birds which have the most beautiful and brilliant plumage have often the most harsh and unpleasing notes; witness parrots, parroquets, peacocks, and a variety of others; and so far from our imagining the bird that enchants us with melodious strains to be large in size, we know of scarcely any large bird which has very sweet notes: if so, whence is the association of greatness of bulk and melody of voice!-E.

Let us learn to judge with more equity, and to discriminate with more attention; for it is not alone symmetry of limb, elegance of form, or advantages of fortune and rank, that ennoble a man, and render him worthy of esteem; it is the superior perfection of his soul, and the finer feelings of his heart, which can alone exalt his nature, and place one man higher than another in the great chain of beings. Those who are incapable of virtue, and destitute of reason, will necessarily be deluded by the false colouring of external appearance, and, unable to penetrate beneath the surface, will be dazzled by the empty parade of riches, and misled by the ostentatious display of splendid insignificance. But have we not seen men on whose humble birth fortune never smiled, nor honours distinguished, raise unto themselves eternal monuments of fame and glory? And have we not known men, whose bodies were formed in nature's coarsest mould, show a magnanimity of soul and a greatness of mind that will ever endear them to our bosoms and entwine them round our hearts? Let us then not easily trust an opinion hastily formed, and founded only upon external appearance; for often those whom we have presumed to despise are superior to ourselves, and deserving of our warmest admiration and regard.

When we listen to the sound of the nightingale, let us remember who gave it such pleasing powers; and let us consider the wisdom of a structure which enables it to produce such sweet sounds. A viscus so delicate as the lungs of this little bird, whose exertions are so violent, would be very liable to receive injuries, if it did not possess the singular advantage of being attached to the vertebræ of the back by a number of little fibres. The opening of the windpipe is very wide, and this very probably contributes to its great diversity of notes. Sweet songster! I will not leave thee till I have learned of thee to celebrate our mutual Creator; and may thou pour, with thy wild warbling strains, joy and gratitude into the hearts of all who in these lovely evenings are revelling in the sweets of summer unconscious of their Maker!

F

JUNE XXIII.

THE PLEASURES WHICH SUMMER OFFERS TO OUR SENSES.

Summer has inexpressible charms, and daily gives us proofs of the infinite beneficence of God. It is the happy season in which he most abundantly pours forth his blessings upon every living creature. Nature, after having refreshed us with the pleasures of spring, is continually at work during the summer, to procure us every thing that can gratify the senses, make our subsistence comfortable, relieve our necessities, and awake in our hearts sentiments of gratitude.

We see all around us, in the fields and in the gardens, fruits, which, after having delighted us with their beauty and gratified our taste

with their sweets, may be collected and preserved for our future convenience. The flowers present us with the most agreeable variety; we admire their rich colours, and rejoice at the inexhaustible fecundity of nature, in their multiplied species. What a beautiful variety is displayed in plants, from the lowly sprig of moss to the majestic oak? Our eye glances from flower to flower; and whether we climb the steep mountain, descend into the valley, or seek the friendly shade of the woods, we every where find new beauties, all differing from one another, but each possessing charms sufficient to engage our attention. There we see innumerable flowers diffusing their sweetness to the air, that softly kisses their blushing leaves; and here various creatures sporting wild, free from care. We look up, and a clear blue sky presents itself; beneath the fresh verdure smiles: our ear is ravished with the tuneful notes of the winged songsters; their various and simple melody wraps our souls in joy, and sweet sensations fill our bosoms. The soft murmuring of the distant brook, and the silver waves of a clear smooth stream gently gliding beneath the overhanging willows, lull our souls to ease, and nought but love and pleasure dwells in our unruffled breast.

Thirsty and fatigued, the modest strawberry offers us sweet refreshment; the gardens and fields fill our granaries with their fruits, and supply us with the most agreeable sustenance. The smell is gratified with the fragrance that every where perfumes the air; and thousands of charming objects delight our senses, and call forth our sensibility. Numerous flocks and herds feed upon the bountiful profusion of nature, and furnish us with milk and nourishing aliment. Abundant showers fall to refresh the earth, and open to us new sources of blessings; smiling groves and tufted trees kindly shelter us from the sun's fervid beams; and every thing around us increases our pleasures and adds to our felicity. If the senses derive gratification from these luxuriant scenes, the mind is not less delighted. It discovers beauty, harmony, yariety; and in every object traces the all-creating hand, the spring of life, and the source of all good. Yes, admirable Being! we see thee in every creature: if we contemplate the Heavens, the Sun, the Moon, and each Star inform us that thou hast made them; all that we perceive through the medium of our senses leads us to thee, and thus our sensations become dignified and exalted, whilst our thoughts soar upward, and are lost in thy infinitude.

JUNE XXIV.

SKETCH OF THE INTERNAL PARTS OF THE HUMAN BODY.

The more difficult it is to acquire a proper knowledge of the internal parts of the human body, the more necessary it is to profit by the labours of skilful anatomists. With the view of facilitating the know