suckle, climbing round its neighbours for support, are now in full bloom. All the varieties of the strawberry open their blossoms, their runners extending on all sides. The mulberry-tree puts forth its leaves.

In this month, the orchis will be found in moist pastures, distinguished by its broad, black spotted leaves, and spike of large purple flowers. The walnut has its flowers in full bloom. See a paper on the colours of plants and flowers, in our last volume, pp. 134-6.

The banks of rills and shady hedges are ornamented with the pretty tribe of speedwells, particularly the germander speedwell, the field mouse-ear, the dove's-foot crane's-bill, and the red campion, the two first of azure blue, and the two last of rose colour, intermixing their flowers with attractive variety. The poet Burns, in a letter to Mrs. Dunlop, says, 'I have some favourite flowers in spring, among which are the mountain-daisy, the hare-bell, the fox-glove, the wild brier-rose, the budding birch, and the hoary hawthorn, that I view and hang over with peculiar delight. I never hear the loud, solitary whistle of the curlew in a summer morn, or the wild mixing cadence of a troop of grey plover, in an autumnal morning, without feeling an elevation of soul like the enthusiasm of devotion or poetry. Tell me, my dear friend, to what can this be owing? Are we a piece of machinery, which, like the Eolian harp, passive, takes the impression of the passing accident? Or do these workings argue something within us above the trodden clod? I own myself partial to such proofs of those awful and important realities-a God that made all things-man's immaterial and immortal nature-and a world of weal or woe beyond death and the grave!'

MORNING LANDSCAPE.

[Written for Time's Telescope, by T. W. Kelly, Author of Myrtle Leaves.']

i

From lowly thatch
Th' uplifted latch,

The dog, whose loud bark tells his joy,
Announce the watchful Shepherd-boy.

'Neath yon beech tree
Now cheerfully,

With song, that well the new day hails,

The rosy milk-maid yokes her pails.

Half sunk between

The ivy's green,

Yon church-clock, in the sun's young ray,

Urges the ploughman on his way.

Fast works the mill;

The tinkling rill,

Behind the parted hawthorn led,

Bright ripples o'er its pebbly bed.

Heath-bells invest

Yon mountain's crest;

And, o'er the vale's dark woods beneath,

From huts, the light smoke twines its wreath.

The huntsman's horn,
From distance borne,

Floats o'er the meads and smiling lakes:-,
In Nature's joy the scene awakes.

The insect tribe continue to add to their numbers. A few butterflies, that have passed the inclement season in the chrysalis state, are seen on the wing early in May. And about the latter end of the month, the Papilio Machaon, or swallow-tailed butterfly, one of the most superb of the British Insects, makes its appearance. Mr. Samouelle, in his directions to the Entomological Collector, says, 'as soon as the white-thorn is in leaf, the hedges should be well beaten ;-the season for taking caterpillars now commences, from which most of the Lepidoptera are obtained, and this is by far the best method, as the insects are generally perfect, and the specimens very fine. Great attention should be paid to the larvæ, and they should be supplied with fresh food, and moist earth kept at the bottom of their cages'.-Introduction to British Entomology.

Field crickets, the chaffer or may-bug, and the forest fly, which so much annoys horses and cattle, are now seen. The female wasp appears at the latter end of the month, and the swarming of bees takes place.

The following curious account of Stylops Dalii, from Curtis's British Entomology (No. LVI), may afford a useful hint to some of our entomological friends; more especially as it may remind them of seeking for other species, which no doubt will be discovered if looked after. Mr. C. was indebted to J. C. DALE, Esq. for the valuable facts relating to this insect. - Every specimen of Andrena barbilabris I have seen, from the 27th of April to the 4th of June, has contained larvæ, pupæ, or exuviæ of Stylops, from one to three in each. On the 5th of May I picked one out with a pin; on the 7th another, rather immature; and caught one flying in the hot sun-shine over a quickset hedge in the garden; it looked milk-white on the wing, with a jet black body, and totally unlike any thing else; it flew with an undulating or vacillating motion among the young shoots, and I could not catch it till it settled on one, when it ran up and down, its wings in motion, and making a considerable buzz or hum nearly as loud as a sesia: it twisted about its rather long tail, and turned it up like a staphylinus. I put it under a glass and placed it in the sun; it became quite furious in its confinement, and never ceased running about for two hours. The elytra, or processes, were kept in quick vibration, as well as the wings: it buzzed against the sides of the glass, with its head touching it, and tumbled about on its back.

'By putting two bees (A. labialis) under a glass in the sun, two stylops were produced: the bees seemed uneasy, and went up towards them, but evidently with caution, as if to fight, and moving their antennæ towards them, retreated. I once thought the bee attempted to seize it: but the oddest thing was to see the stylops get on the body of the bee and ride about, the latter using every effort to throw his rider. A large hole is left in the tail of the bee when the stylops escapes, which closes up after a time. I have found five species of Andrenæ infested.' Ina second communication Mr. Dale says, 'I forgot to tell you that the bees were in a state of extreme irritation immediately before the stylops came out; and when on the body of the bee, the stylops kept its wings still and half erect.'-The above account is illustrated by a beautiful coloured figure of the insect, and some very accurate dissections.

The female glow-worm is now seen on dry banks, about woods, pastures, and hedgeways, exhibiting, as soon as the dusk of evening commences, the most vivid and beautiful phosphoric splendour, in form of a round spot of considerable size.

This morning, when the earth and sky

Were blooming with the blush of Spring,
I saw thee not, thou humble fly,

Nor thought upon thy gleaming wing;
But now the skies have lost their hue,
And sunny lights no longer play,
I see thee, and I bless thee too,
For sparkling o'er the dreary way.
Oh! let me hope, that thus for me,
When life and love shall lose their bloom,
Some milder joys may come, like thee,
To light, if not to warm, the gloom.

MOORE.

Dost thou whisper to my heart-
Though I grovel in the sod,
Still I mock man's boasted art
With the workmanship of God.'

See! the fire-fly in his flight
Scorning thy terrene career, -
He, the eccentric meteor bright,
Thou the planet of thy sphere.

Why, within thy cavern damp,
Thus with trembling haste dost cower?
Fear'st thou I would quench thy lamp,-
Lustre of thy lonely bower?

No! Regain thy couch of clay,
Sparkle brightly as before:
Man should dread to take away
Gifts he never can restore.

The Grayling or Umber. This fish is not to be met with in the rivers about London, but abounds in the river Thame, about nine miles from London, and in the Severn, the Wye, and the Trent. It spawns the latter end of May, and seldom exceeds a pound in weight.