in forming its nest, is truly wonderful, and never enough to be admired. We shall therefore consider it more minutely.

Nothing is more curious than the nest of a goldfinch. The inside is lined with cotton, wool, and fine silky threads, while the outside is interwoven with thick moss; and that the nest may be less remarkable, and less exposed to the eye of observers, the colour of the moss resembles that of the bark of the tree or of the hedge where the nest is built. In some nests the hair, the down, and the straws, are curiously laid across each other, and interwoven together. There are others, all the parts of which are neatly joined and fastened together by a thread which the bird makes with flax, and horse or cow-hair, and often of spiders' webs. Other birds, as the blackbird and the lapwing, after having built their nest, plaster the outside with a thin coating of mortar, which cements and binds together all the lower parts, and which, with the help of some cow-hair or moss stuck to it whilst the plaster is wet, keeps it compact and warm. The nests of swallows are differently constructed from all others. They use neither sticks, straws, nor flax; but they compose a sort of cement, with which they make themselves nests, perfectly neat, secure, and convenient. To moisten the dust of which they form their nest, they frequently skim over the surface of some lake or river, and, dipping their breasts into the water, shake their wet feathers upon the dust till it is sufficiently moist, and then knead it up into a kind of clay with their bills.

But the nests most worthy of our admiration are those of certain Indian birds, which suspend them with great art from the branches of trees, that they may be secure from the pursuit of several animals and insects. In general each species of bird has a peculiar mode of placing its nest: some build them on houses, others in trees, some in the grass, others in the ground; and always in that way which is most adapted for their safety, the rearing their young, and the preservation of their species.

Such is the wonderful instinct of birds in the structure and disposition of their nests, that we may almost conclude they cannot be mere machines; so much industry, intelligence, sagacity, and skill, do they display in the construction of their nests. And is it not apparent that in all their works they propose to themselves certain ends? They make their nests hollow, forming the half of a sphere, that the heat may be better retained. The outside of the nest is covered by substances more or less coarse, not only to serve as a foundation, but to prevent the wind and insects from entering. The inside is lined with the most delicate materials, such as wool and feathers, that the nestlings may be soft and warm.

Is it not something nearly approaching to reason which teaches the bird to place its nest in such a manner that it is sheltered from rain, and out of the reach of destructive animals? Where have they learned that they are to produce eggs which will require a nest to prevent them from being broken, and to keep them warm? That the heat would not be sufficiently concentrated if the nest were larger, and

that, if it were smaller, all the young ones could not be contained in it? Who has taught them not to mistake the time, and to calculate so exactly that the eggs are not laid before the nest is finished? These questions have never been satisfactorily answered, neither can this mystery in nature be clearly explained: all we can do is to refer it to an instinct which some animals seem to possess in a manner almost equal to reason: and instinct to them is much more happy and beneficial than reason would be; for they seem to enjoy all the sweets of life without their moments being imbittered by the consideration of their inferior rank in the creation, and without the pain of anticipating evil.

JULY VI.

DIVERSITY OF PLEASURES IN NATURE.

To whatever part of the creation we direct our view we find something to interest and gratify either our senses, our imagination, or our reason. Universal nature is formed to present us with a multitude of pleasing objects, and to procure those new and varied delights which continually succeed each other. Our inclination for variety is continually excited and always gratified; there is no part of the day in which we do not find some gratification for our senses or for our minds. Whilst the sun illumines the horizon, plants, animals, and a thousand pleasing objects, gratify our view; and when night extends her sable mantle over the earth, the majestic grandeur of the firmament occasions rapture and astonishment. Every where Nature works to procure us new enjoyment; even the smallest insects, leaves, and grains of sand, offer subjects of admiration and he who is not struck with this infinite diversity, and does not acknowledge in it the goodness of God, must be blind indeed; and little are his feelings to be envied whose heart does not throb with pleasure at the sight of nature's beautiful objects.

The same brook that waters the valleys, murmurs sweet music in our ear, invites us to soft repose, and refreshes the parched tongue. The grove which shields us from the piercing rays of the sun by its protecting shade, makes us experience a delicious coolness; reclining at ease beneath the lofty trees, whilst we listen to the joyful songs of the birds, a thousand sweet sensations sooth our souls. The trees, whose beautiful blossoms so lately delighted us, will soon produce the most delicious fruits; and the meadows, waving with the ripening corn, promise an abundant harvest.

Nature presents us with no objects pleasing and useful in only one respect; she clothes and adorns the earth with green, a colour the most beneficial and agreeable to the eye, and adds to its beauty by diversifying its shades; for, though pleasing in itself, its charms are much increased by this happy distribution of shade. Each species of

plant has its peculiar colour; landscapes covered with woods, bushes, plants, vegetables, and corn, present a most beautiful scene of verdure, where the colouring is infinitely varied, and its shades insensibly blended, increasing from the lightest tints to the darkest hue; and yet a perfect harmony is always preserved.

Every month of the year brings us different plants and new flowers. Those which are decayed are replaced by others, and by thus succeeding each other there is no perceptible void in the vegetable kingdom.

But to whom are we indebted for these numerous and diversified presents? Who is it that provides for our wants and pleasures with so much goodness and munificence? Go and ask universal nature: the hills and the vallies will inform thee, the earth will teach thee, and the heaven is a mirror in which thou mayest behold the Author of these blessings. The storm and the tempest announce him; the voice of thunder and the fire of lightning, the bow painted in the heavens, the rain and the snow, proclaim his wisdom and goodness. The green meadows, the fields yellow with the ripe grain, the mountains whose lofty summits are lost in the clouds, the trees bending with fruit, gardens variegated with flowers, and the rose's delicious bloom, all bear the stamp of His impression. The birds celebrate him in their melodious concerts: the sportive lambs; the stag, bounding through the forests; the worm that crawls in the dust; the ocean-monarch, the huge whale, that with its gambols sinks ships, and tumbling in the foam makes the waves roar; the fearful crocodile; the elephant, that carries towers upon its back; all the animals that people the air, the earth, and the sea, declare the glory and proclaim the existence of Almighty God. Let us then open our ears to this universal voice of nature, which speaks a language we cannot resist; and let us, that are the happy witnesses of these wonders of God, come and render unto him, in the presence of his creatures, that testimony of gratitude and adoration which is due to him for so many blessings.

We cannot look around but every thing reminds us of his infinite goodness, and calls forth our gratitude and joy; when we walk abroad into the fields, and see the rich corn, the flocks feeding, and the verdant groves, may our souls be filled with pleasure, and our hearts rejoice in bliss! We shall then experience that there is no greater and more durable satisfaction than that arising from the contemplation of Nature's works, which the longer we consider the more we shall admire and the more attentively we observe the more shall we discover that God is a pure being, who loves mercy and goodness, and that the Christian religion is a source of unfading joy, and a continual motive for grateful adoration.

JULY VII.

A FLOWER-GARDEN.

Let us now take a view of the flower-garden, and consider the nu merous and varied beauties which are collected in so small a space. The art and industry of man have made it the receptacle of the most beautiful flowers. But what would it have been without care and industry? A wild desert, full of thorns and weeds. And such would be the condition of our youth if their education were neglected, and their minds remained uncultivated. But when children early receive instruction, and imbibe good principles, they are like sweet blossoms, delightful in beauty, and soon productive of fruit that will benefit society.

Observe the night-violet, or julian flower, which towards evening perfumes the garden with its fragrance, in which it excels all other flowers; but it has no beauty, and has scarcely even the resemblance of a flower it is small and of a gray colour, approaching towards green, so as to be scarcely distinguished from the leaves; humble and modest, it scents the whole garden, though it is not perceived in the multitude; and it is almost incredible that a flower of such insignificant appearance should give out odours so exquisitely sweet. It may be said to resemble a person who is not handsome, but whose want of beauty nature has more than compensated by a ready wit and enlarged mind. The pious man often does good in silence and privacy, and the sweet incense of his good works ascends all around him; and when we become acquainted with this amiable character, we perhaps find him neither distinguished by elegance of person nor elevation of rank.

The carnation combines both beauty and fragrance, and is one of the most perfect of flowers; in the richness and beauty of its colours it approaches the tulip, and surpasses it in the number of its leaves and in the elegance of its form. This flower is the emblem of a person in whom sense and beauty are united, and who has the happiness to conciliate the love and respect of his fellow-creatures.

Let us next observe the rose its colour, form, and perfume, all charm us; but its beauty soon fades, and the attractions which distinguish it from other flowers soon cease. This is a useful lesson to those who pride themselves upon beauty only: from the short-lived honours of the rose, let them take warning how frail and perishing are the charms of person and the elegance of form. All is vanity; all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of the field; the grass withereth, and the flower fadeth away.' The lilies and the roses of a beautiful face fade like the flowers of the garden, and death leaves no trace of them behind. Let us then be wise enough to seek our happiness and repose from more certain and durable sources. Wisdom, virtue, and the blessings of Christianity, never fade, and are

never exhausted; they are the eternal fountains of joy whose waters shall refresh when every other source is dried up.

JULY VIII.

PHENOMENA OF A THUNDER-STORM.

However terrible the effects of storms and of thunder may be, they present a spectacle so grand and astonishing that they claim our most earnest consideration. An examination into their nature and effects is the more necessary, because it often happens that an excessive fear prevents our considering this grand and awful spectacle with sufficient attention.

When a stormy cloud or collection of vapours highly electrified approaches so near a high building, or a cloud which is not electrified, that an electric spark escapes from it, an explosion takes place, which is called a clap of thunder; and the vivid light that we see is lightning. Sometimes we only see a sudden and momentary flash; at other times a train of fire shoots through the heavens in a forked or zig-zag form. The explosion which accompanies the lightning demonstrates that the vapours which occasion the thunder, becoming suddenly ignited, violently agitate and expand the air; with the emission of each electric spark an explosion is heard, and the thunder is sometimes composed of several claps, or is prolonged and multiplied by echo.

There is generally some interval of time between the lightning and the thunder-clap, and this enables us to judge of the degree and nearness of the danger; for sound requires some time to reach our ear, while light passes so rapidly, that, travelling through the same space, it strikes upon our organs of vision much sooner. As soon, therefore, as we see a flash of lightning, we have only to count the seconds that intervene before we hear the thunder; or if we have not a watch, we may count how many times our pulse beats between the clap and the flash; if we can reckon ten, we are certain that the thunder is distant a quarter of a league; for about forty pulsations may be felt whilst the sound travels the space of one league.*

Lightning does not always proceed in a right line from above downwards, but often in a serpentine or zig-zag direction, and sometimes does not flash till very near the ground. The electric matter which reaches the earth, or takes fire near it, never fails to strike; but it has not always force enough to reach us, and, like an ill-charged bomb, is spent in the air without doing any injury: but when the combustible vapours reach the ground they often occasion great damage.

* Perhaps it may assist those who are not accustomed to this kind of calculation, to be aware that sound passes about one thousand feet in one second of time; so that if twenty seconds can be counted between the clap and the flash, the place where the thunder is generated is distant twenty thousand feet.-E.