These

little dots are nothing more than the first cast skins of the newly-hatched flies; for none of these will be found on the under surface of the leaves, all lying on the upper surface, along with the honey-dew, or saccharine excrements of the flies inhabiting the under surface of the leaf above. positions of the flies, the cast skins, and the honey-dew, are so uniform, that we have never observed them in any other, in the innumerable cases which we have examined. That the small cast skins of the aphides have been mistaken for eggs is not wonderful, when we consider their white colour; but the distinct outline of the feet and other members will at once determine the fact.

SINGING OF BIRDS DURING A THUNDERSTORM.-Chancing to be abroad in a violent thunder-storm, which burst over the metropolis and its vicinity last summer, we remarked a circumstance that had not before attracted our notice, and that has not, so far as we are aware, been hitherto recorded. The missel-thrush is popularly named the stormcock, because he is supposed to sing most and loudest previously to the onset of a storm; but we had not heard it said that he sings during the continuance of the storm. In the instance in question, a missel-thrush was perched upon a lofty elm, hard by an ivied pollard, under which we had taken rather precarious shelter from the heavy thunder-shower, and he continued to pour forth his loud, shrill notes, with scarcely a pause, though we do not recollect ever witnessing thunder so near and so tremendous. One peal followed the flash of lightning in less than half a minute, and the very air seemed rending asunder; but the little songster, quite undismayed, gave no intermission to his music, if music it can be called, which resembles, as nearly as we can aescribe it, the attempts of a parrot or of a

magpie to imitate the notes of a blackbird. At the same time, a cuckoo, in an adjacent hedge, kept up his monotonous chant, as if determined that even the unmusical misselthrush should not want a choral accompaniment. We were more surprised, however, to see a skylark about a hundred yards from our station, mount up amidst the war of the elements, and commence his sprightly strain, for the rain was pouring down in torrents, and the lightnings flashing at intervals of a few minutes, while the thunderpeals were both loud and almost incessant. The skylark, indeed, did not mount so high as if it had been unclouded sunshine, finding it, no doubt, somewhat uncomfortable to sing unsheltered in such a storm, while the missel-thrush and the cuckoo probably were protected by overhanging boughs.

THE ROCK-ROSE. In dry, rocky, and calcareous places, in this month and the next, the rock-rose (Cistus helianthemum) is a very common flower, beautifying the patches of withered herbage with its golden blossoms, and giving an air of sunshine and gaiety to the barren rock. If you take a small probe or a hog's bristle, and irritate any of the numerous stamens of this flower, you will see them fall back from the pistil, and spread themselves upon the petals, exhibiting a very pretty example of vegetable irritability, little less striking than that of the sensitive plant. A similar instance of this spontaneous approach and retreat of the stamens may be observed in another elegant British plant-the grass of Parnassus (Parnassia palustris), which is not uncommon in moist meadows and upland marshes:--when the anthers are young they stretch forward till they reach the summit of the pistil, where they deposit their fertilizing pollen, and then fall back towards the petals.

VOL. I.

the general routine of love affairs in romance, forsakes the young nobleman and marries another nearer her own degree; changed to the last, and he subsequently but the passion of the heir remains un

obtains the hand of his beloved after she has become a widow. The following is a pleasing specimen of the style :

The parents of Amy were born, like herself, on the estate of Claremont, and were reared at the Hall, as the playmates of the late lord and his sisters. Attached to each other from infancy, they were united at an early age, and continued to reside at the Hall, loved and esteemed by its noble inmates; neither would they quit it, after it

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became desolate and abandoned by the family. It had been their home from their earliest recollections, and was endeared to them by many a fond and tender circumstance connected with their mutual attachment; and when the fatal accident which deprived their patron of existence occasioned his family to desert the ancient seat of their ancestors, they preferred the lonely solitude of the Hall, and the tranquil scenes of their birth to new friends and a new home.

The daughter of Farmer Bloomfield was the favourite companion of Amy's mother. Her beauty and modest deportment was the theme of village conversation; and many a rustic swain offered a faithful heart and an honest hand to the beautiful Mary, who blushingly declined the numerous overtures she received, assigning as a reason for her conduct her determination not to marry during the lifetime of her father, who had performed to her the double duty of both parents.

This strange avowal, from one so young and handsome, occasioned many a vain conjecture among the lovers of Mary; and as she really shewed no preference to any one, they all concluded that she was insensible to the power of love, and soon paid their vows to some kinder fair one.

But Mary was very far from the insensible they deemed her to be; her heart in secret throbbed with a passion which was gradually stealing the bright glow of health from her cheek, and which robbed her nights of their accustomed light and happy rest. The mother of Amy was the first to notice the change in her bosom friend, and to inquire the cause. What but love, concealed and unknown, could injure the repose of Mary Bloomfield. Tears and burning blushes betrayed the truth of the suspicion; and Mrs. Hargrave felt deeply mortified at what she considered a want of confidence in her friend.

Mary confessed that a secret attachment was undermining her health, but that she had sworn never to betray the object.

Her friend reminded her of the kindness of her father, and of his anxiety for her welfare, which would prevent his raising any obstacle to her wishes.

Mary sighed heavily-It is for my father that I feel, not for myself,' said she. 'I little thought, while laughing, as I have often done, at the strange power of love on some hearts, that mine would so soon feel its force; and that even my affection for the best of fathers would give place to the object of my first love.'

Who this object was, Mrs. Hargrave could never discover; and as she was tenderly attached to Mary, she felt serious apprehensions lest her innocence should fall a prey to the wily artifices of some deep designing villain.

Mary assured her, in the most solemn manner, that she would never have cause to blush for her conduct, though she might have to weep for her misfortunes: and Mrs. Hargrave trusted to this assurance, until the alteration in Mary's figure became too visible for concealment.

In an agony not to be described, Farmer Bloomfield sent for Mrs. Hargrave; Mary was taken suddenly ill, and Dorcas, the faithful creature who had nursed her when a child, was dispatched to fetch Mrs. Hargrave to her assistance.

What a scene for a father, now for the first time made acquainted with the situation of an idolized child!-of a father who, though in a sphere of life comparatively humble to many, was keenly alive to the sense of dishonour and to the degradation of his daughter!

'Father! dear father!' said Mary, falling at his feet, I call Heaven to witness I am not the lost creature you think me to be, but solemnly and sacredly the wife of him whom I dare not name without his consent. Dearly as I love him, he had not power to make me guilty: he made me his wife, and I swore to preserve his secret, until he came down to claim me openly as his own. This I expected would take place before my situation became too visible, but my sudden illness has betrayed me. Father, dear father! indeed, indeed, I am innocent!'

She fainted in the arms of the honest farmer, who, alarmed for her life, thought only of preserving it. He pressed her again and again to his paternal bosom, assured her of his forgiveness, and implored Mrs. Hargrave not to leave her until she was recovered.

The mother of Amy wanted no persuasion to induce her to attend to the friend she loved, and whom she perceived to be dangerously ill. During her constant attendance, she frequently heard her mention a name which was familiar to them both; but she considered it as the wandering effect of a disordered mind, and never intimated to any one what she had heard.

Mary at length gave birth prematurely to a son in the last struggles of expiring nature, again that name escaped her; life was extinct; and all that remained of the once blooming, once beautiful, Mary Bloomfield was a poor seven months baby, left to the protection of an agonized grandfather, a sorrowing friend, without a name, or even a clue to trace that of his father.

The most prominent defect in this novel is the profuse introduction of titled personages, with whose style of conversation, routine of manners, nay, even their ordinary failings, the authoress is evidently unacquainted.

POPULAR ZOOLOGY: comprising Memoirs and Anecdotes of the Quadrupeds, Birds, and Reptiles in the Zoological Society's Menagerie, with figures of the more important and interesting; to which is prefixed, a descriptive Walk round the Gardens, with illustrative Engravings. The whole forming an entertaining manual of natural history, and a complete guide for Visitors. 18mo.

This volume deserves encouragementit deserves it because it is cheap in price, and yet got up with due regard to utility. There are nearly 400 pages of letter-press, with pictorial illustrations. Every page contains information at once useful and entertaining. The work opens with an interesting account of the lamas, natives of America; but we prefer extracting the account of the Egyptian ichneumon, whose value and properties may not be so commonly known to our readers.

The sanctity in which the ichneumon was held by the ancient Egyptians, and its worship as one of their deities, will no longer be matter of surprise when its services are duly considered; these prove it to have possessed more claims than any other animal to the attention of that singular people. It represented a lively image of a beneficent Power perpetually engaged in the destruction of those noisome and dangerous reptiles, which propagate with such terrible rapidity in hot and humid climates. Though the ichneumon dares not to attack crocodiles, serpents, and the larger of the lizard tribe, by open force, or when they are fully grown, yet, by feeding on their eggs, it reduces the number of these intolerable pests.

From its dimensions, size, and timid disposition, the ichneumon has neither the power to overcome, nor the courage to attack, such formidable adversaries; nor is it an animal of decidedly carnivorous appetite. Urged by its instinet of destruction, and guided, at the same time, by the utmost prudence, it may be seen, at the close of day, gliding through the ridges and inequalities of soil in quest of its prey. If chance favour its search, it does not limit itself to the momentary gratification of its appetite, but destroys every living thing within its reach, which is too feeble to offer it resistance. The ichneumon exhibits the utmost perseverance in the pursuit of its prey. It will remain for hours in the same place, watching the animal it has marked out as its victim. Thus, to this day, ichneumons are domesticated, and perform the office of cats in ridding houses of the smaller vermin. They acquire an attach

ment to the house which they inhabit, and to the individuals with whom they are brought up; they never wander, nor attempt to regain their liberty; they know the persons and recognize the voices of their masters, and are pleased with the caresses bestowed on them; but they manifest their native ferocity if disturbed while eating.

When an ichneumon penetrates into a place unknown to it, it immediately explores every hole and corner by smelling, which sense is uncommonly powerful and acute. To this it seems principally to trust; for its other senses, particularly those of sight, taste, and touch, are comparatively

feeble.

M. D'Obsonville had an ichneumon, which he brought up almost from its birth. One day he brought to this animal a small water-serpent alive, being desirous of ascertaining how its instinct would lead it to act against a creature with which it was hitherto unacquainted. He at first appeared astonished and angry, for his hair became erect; but, in an instant afterwards, he slipped behind the reptile, and, with astonishing agility, leaped upon its head, seized, and crushed it between his teeth. This essay and new experiment seemed to have awakened in the ichneumon his innate and destructive voracity, which, till then, had given way to the gentleness he had acquired from his education.

The Egyptian ichneumon is described as considerably larger than the animal in the garden. This specimen, however, agrees with the character and description of the species. The colour is a deep brown, picked out with dirty white; the tail is terminated with hairs entirely brown.

A CLINICAL REPORT OF THE ROYAL DISPENSARY FOR DISEASES OF THE EAR. By John Harrison Curtis, Esq., Aurist to his Majesty.

This institution was established in the year 1816, to afford relief to the poor. The following statement, which we find at page 4, is curious, when contrasted with the published figure report of this society.

The charity alluded to (for the cure of deafness) was set on foot by the late Mr. Saunders, who was, in this country the father of acoustic surgery. Diseases of the organ of hearing, when compared with the vast number of maladies to which the human frame is liable, have seemed to be numerically unimportant, and, if not entirely overlooked, have been blended in the great mass of nosological arrangements. With regard to Mr. Saunders, his scientific and ingenious endeavours to draw attention

to the study and practice of acoustic surgery, met with such inadequate encouragement, that he shortly found it expedient to relinquish this branch for the more lucrative department of the oculist."

It is reported, however, by the society as under, that in the year 1817, there were 367 patients admitted, 89 cured, and 75 relieved; and the number progressively increased, until, in 1831, 927 patients were admitted, 570 cured, and 236 relieved, -making together a grand total, in fifteen years, of 10,600 persons admitted, 4,876 cured, and 2,952 relieved.

How great a weight of human woe has been already removed by the instrumentality of this society, whose exertions extend to every individual! The deaf man is, unfortunately, not merely a burthen to himself, but a corroding care to all around him. It is, however, truly gratifying to us to record, that deafness should be, in so many cases, curable, and to join our efforts in aiding this good work. Doubtless, our readers will search out the poor among their brethren afflicted with this malady, and speedily send them to the institution, "which has amongst its supporters many eminent men of the medical profession." If the deafness cannot be cured, artificial means can be generally devised for enabling the patient to hear with tolerable facility. We have witnessed the application of these means with as much pleasure as astonish

ment.

Mr. Curtis has also, in five reported cases, given speech to the dumb, by first of all removing the deafness which prevented the patient from hearing articulate sounds. He argues, at page 31, and perhaps not improperly, that if the power of hearing can be imparted, that of speech will naturally follow. "In fact," adds Mr. Curtis, "where any relief is to be afforded, it must be through successful attempts on the organ of hearing; and where such a result takes place, the process is slow. Parents who have children labouring under this misfortune, are accordingly very apt to be ligent in persevering to obtain the desired

relief.

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In cordially recommending the institution, we conclude by commending the intelligible and honest tone of simplicity in which the cases are recorded in the report before us there is no quackery.

We can give this little volume the best recommendation that can be bestowed on any work of amusement. It may be read aloud, from beginning to end, to the delight of any audience who have sufficient perception to relish wit and humorous development of character; nor is there an expression in the book that can give the slightest offence to ladies of real delicacy and refinement. The chief cause of complaint that can be brought against Mr. Croker is, that his novellette is not a novel. Barney Mahoney possesses no little originality of plan as well as execution. The hero belongs to a small family of "tirteen," and is selected from the lot by Mr. Stapleton, a benevolent English merchant, who takes shelter in an Irish cabin near Cork,-which accident leads to the final importation of the "raw article," to be fashioned into a footman in Mr. Stapleton's hospitable domicile in Finsburysquare. Barney, who is no hero in fact, but a true specimen of human nature, scarcely becomes accustomed to the luxuries of his excellent master's mansion before he despises "the city," and casts about to "better himself;" and, in the course of accidents, arising from this laudable endeavour, we are introduced by turns to Lady Theodosia Levencourt, a skin-flint lady of quality; Mrs. Temple, and her daughters, who have real claims to fashion, but are vulgar-minded and selfish; and the Joneses, who are parvenus, established in Montague-place, Russellsquare; besides some other characters, whose delineation is less happily effected, belonging to the caricaturist rather than to the comic writer. However, here is a specimen of the treat we promise the readers of Mr. Crofton Croker's work.

His first essay in the 'valeting line,' to use James's own expression, was not particularly successful, to be sure. He had been deputed over-night by this upper man,' to take Mr. Charles's clothes up at o'clock, and to call him.

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Barney entered the room at the time specified; and, whilst his young master was enjoying a profound morning slumber (never having been witness of the insinuating method in which his predecessor performed the operation), he plunged his head between the bed-curtains, seized the

sleeper by the shoulder, and roared in his ear, Get up, Sir!'

'What in the world can be the matter!' cried Charles, starting up in bed. What brings you here, Barney? What can have happened?'

'Nine o'clock, Sir, it is.'

Why, you dirty Irish vagabond! is that all? Send James to me instantly. What can he mean by sending such a Goth to terrify one in this manner?'

You're to go up stairs to Misther Charles, if you plase, James. Faix, I dunnow what I dun; but its de devil's own passion he's in wi' me intirely. Oh, murther! ullagone! what'll I do at all to pacify him? Go up at wonst, Misther James, dear ah, an' do. Och hone! och hone!' repeated Barney, as he rocked backward and forward on a little stool, overpowered with grief and terror.

'I suppose you will send a terrier dog to rouse me some morning, James!' cried the angry youth, on the culprit's entrance.

But listen to me. If ever you let the shock head of that Irish scarecrow pierce my bedcurtains again, I shall complain to my father of your idleness. You impose on his goodnature; and because he allows you help in the pantry, you think proper to turn over all your business upon Barney's shoulders. Have a care, Sir! it will not do with me.'

The next advances of our hero were made with more circumspection, and with fuller instructions; and it soon came to pass that Barney could dress hair, clean plate, and wait at table, as well as (Mrs. Stapleton said better than) James.

The Easter ball, the intended scene of Miss Stapleton's debut, was expected to be an unusually splendid one. For this reason, and on such an occasion, it was, after profound deliberation, decided that, although Mrs. Thompson, of Aldersgatestreet, was an excellent dress-maker-had worked for the family many years-and, moreover, fitted Fanny to admiration, still that it would be expedient to apply to the 'west end' for the finery at present in request. Nothing short of Jermyn-street is, by City belles, considered fashionable. Fanny, of course, would be admired; inquiries would, undoubtedly, be made on the subject; and Madame anything,' of Jermyn-street, would sound far better than 'plain Mrs. Thompson, of the City.'

An expedition to the west end' followed this determination; and the necessary orders were given on the important subject in question, accompanied by express directions from Mrs. Stapleton, that the dress should be sent home the day previous to that of the ball, 'in case,' as the prudent matron observed, it might require any alteration.'

So impertinent a suggestion, and from 'City people, too!' was not to be brooked by the impudent French modiste. With many bows, and the most servile smiles, she assured her new customer, that the orders of Mesdames should be punctually obeyed, although it would necessarily involve the disappointment of the Duchess of Longbill, and the Ladies Lackpenny, whose dresses must be laid aside to oblige Mrs. Stapleton. The straightforward and fair dealing merchant's lady was startled, and somewhat shocked at this assertion; which devoutly believing, she even went so far as to offer to employ some other person, rather than reduce Madame to so painful and even improper an alternative. The milliner, upon this, declared she would accommodate the matter.' 'Yes! yes! she could arrange. It was only to sit up a night, or two nights! a mere trifle! nothing in consideration of obliging so good a lady, and her so amiable daughter.'

They therefore departed, quite satisfied and confident, since they were excluded from the benefit of Madame's exclamation to her women, as she entered her workroom. Eh, mon Dieu! quelles bêtes, ces autres Anglaises; tell me de time, indeed, I shall send dress home! ma foi, dem shall send for it; I not send de oder side Bedfore-square for ni bal, ni noting.'

"Accordingly, the day on which it was to arrive, passed over in vain expectation and annoyance to both mother and daughter. It then occurred to Mrs. Stapleton, that the dress must have been left at some wrong house," for Madame had promised so faithfully?' (An expression, by the by, often employed in the service of its very reverse.) And it was resolved to send Barney to Jermyn-street, to learn the fate of, or carry off, the prize in question. Barney' would' be sure to find the place, although (as his mistress informed him) it was four or five miles distant; and moreover, he assured her, 'he'd be there an' back in less than no time.' -That being the usual period assigned, in his country, to the gossoon, when sent on an expedition where extraordinary speed is required. Furnished with a huge wicker basket, lined with oil-skin, which had, not many years before, held in safe custody the three best bonnets of Mrs. Stapleton, and was subsequently appropriated to the reception of one turban of immense expanse, Barney sallied forth; and, as nearly as may be calculated, an hour after that time, Miss Stapleton seated herself at one of the drawing-room windows overlooking the square and the street whence she knew her Mercury would emerge. During her sojourn there, she had leisure to translate into plain English the real meaning of less than no time.' She decided it to be an ex

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