the cocila, whose wild native wood-notes announce the approach of spring, to be caught in my garden, for the sake of comparing it with Buffon's description. Even when a fine young pangolin was brought to me, against my wish, from the mountains, I solicited his restoration to his beloved rocks, because I found it impossible to preserve him in comfort at a distance from them."*

And if, only in a slight degree, the young may be really benefited, the great interests of humanity promoted, and the blessed Parent of all good glorified, the writer will rejoice, and be grateful, that the pleasant hours which he has employed in the production of these volumes, have not been spent in vain.

An index is appended, for facility of reference to the various subjects of the work.

Southampton.

* Lord Teignmouth's Life of Sir W. Jones, p. 899

THE SEASONS IN DIFFERENT CLIMATES-THEIR VARIED CHARMS-HOW THEY ARE PRODUCED-ST. PIERRE'S STRAWBERRY ROOT-NUMBER OF PLANTS THE PRIMROSE-COWPER'S LINES ON THE SEASONS.

EDWARD. Mamma thinks we had better take our walk, before we sit down to our lessons this morning.

MR. PERCY. I think so too; it is so mild and fine, though the first of March, that we may regard it as the first morning in Spring. We have great reason

B

to be thankful to divine Providence, who has assigned us so great and so pleasing a variety in the succession of the seasons.

Then is it not so everywhere, Papa?

No, Edward; in the frigid, and in the torrid zones,or in the coldest and warmest parts of our globe,-there are but two seasons; in Canada, Lapland, and the most northern parts of Sweden, the inhabitants have only winter and summer. The former lasts about eight months in the year.

I should not like eight months of winter, Papa! Perhaps not; yet winter, through the divine goodness, even to the people who reside in the coldest regions, is not without its enjoyments. I was about to observe, that the transition from winter to summer; or, from frost and snow to great heat, is very sudden in the northern parts of the world. A traveller who spent some time in Lapland tells us, that the snow and ice began to melt about the twenty-third of June; and that they were quite gone at the close of the month. On the ninth of July, the fields were all

green; by the seventeenth, the plants were at their full growth; and in blossom and flower on the twentyfifth. The fruits of various kinds were ripe on the second of August; and on the tenth the people were gathering in their seeds. About the middle of August their winter began with frost and snow, and continued till near the end of the following June.

How long and how dreary the winter must be, Papa. But where else, did you say, they have but two seasons?

In India; the one is dry and hot, and lasts about seven or eight months: the other, a period of gloom and rain; through the remainder of the year, this is their winter. But in Europe, in the temperate zones, in which we find our beloved country happily placed, there are, as you know, four different seasons; these are more or less distinctly marked as we advance towards the north or south. The prominent features of the different parts of the year, are finely described by a writer whose volume will be read whilst the seasons revolve. Can you repeat the lines I refer to, Edward?

I think I can; they are in this Hymn,

"Forth in the pleasing SPRING

Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love.
Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm;
Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles;
And every sense, and every heart is joy.
Then comes thy glory in the SUMMER months,
With light and heat refulgent. Then thy sun
Shoots full perfection through the swelling year;
And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks;
And oft, at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve,
By brooks and groves, in hollow whispering gales.
Thy bounty shines in AUTUMN unconfin'd,
And spreads a common feast for all that lives!
In WINTER, awful THOU! with clouds and storms
Around Thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest roll'd,
Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing,
Riding sublime, thou bidst the world adore,
And humblest nature with thy northern blast."

But, Papa, which season do you like the best? You remind me, Edward, of the little boy, who when asked, whether he liked his father or his mother most; replied, "I love them both best." So, to me, each season has its charms, though they are of