three quarters of a mile from the Isle of Anglesea, abounds with these birds; and their flocks, for multitude, may be compared to swarms of bees. About the middle of the month, the swift disappears, and probably migrates to more southern regions. Rooks begin to roost in their nest trees, and young broods of goldfinches (fringilla carduelis) appear; lapwings (tringa vanellus) and linnets (fringilla linota) congregate; the nuthatch chatters; and, towards the end of the month, the redbreast is again heard. At the beginning of the month, melilot (trifolium officinale), rue (ruta graveolens), the water parsnep (sysimbrium nasturtium), horehound (marrubium vulgare), water mint (mentha aquatica), the orpine (sedum telephium), and the gentiana amarella, have their flowers full blown. The purple blossoms of the meadow saffron (colchicum autumnale) now adorn the low moist lands. The number of plants in flower, however, is greatly lessened in this month, those which bloomed in the former months running fast to seed. The scarcity of flowers, however, is amply repaid by an abundance of fruits of various kinds and hues: The mealy plum Hangs purpling, or displays an amber hue; BIDLAKE. Heaths and commons are now in all their beauty; the flowers of the various species of heath (erica) covering them with a fine purple hue. Ferns also begin to flower, the commonest sort of which is the fern or brakes (polypodium filix-mas); but the female (pteris aquilina) is the most beautiful plant. Insects still continue to swarm; they sport in the sun from flower to flower, from fruit to fruit, and subsist themselves upon the superfluities of nature. Some of the most splendid butterflies are seen in August. The most remarkable are the swallowtailed butterfly (papilio machaon), of a beautiful yellow, with black spots; the peacock butterfly (papilio io), of an orange-brown colour, with black bars intersected by spaces of yellow; the admirable butterfly (papilio atalanta), of the most intense velvetblack colour, with a rich carmine-coloured bar across the upper wings, which are spotted towards the tips with white; and the papilio paphia, a highly elegant insect of a fine orange-chesnut colour above, with numerous black spots and bars :_ it is usually found in the neighbourhood of woods. To these may be added, the black-eyed marble butterfly (papilio semele), and the small golden black spotted butterfly (papilio phlæas). The beauty of the butterfly, the splendour and astonishing variety of its colours, its elegant form, its sprightly air, with its roving and fluttering life, all unite to captivate the least observant eye. These insects, indeed, seem to vie with each other in beauty of tints and elegance of shape. The butterflies of China, and particularly those of America, and on the river of the Amazons, are remarkable for their size, and for the richness and vivid lustre of their colours. Nor is it too bold an assertion, perhaps, that the butterflies of those hot climates afford instances of the most perfect art of colouring that even deity itself can produce. But no description can be adequate to that, of which the sight alone can form a competent idea. Hence, in the Oriental countries, where the butterfly is so much larger and more beautiful than ours, it is no wonder that it forms a principal ornament of their poetry. Nature, in these insects, seems to have been fond to sport in the artificial mixture and display of her most radiant treasures. In some, what elaborate harmony of colouring, what brilliancy of tints, what soft and gradual transitions from one to another! In the wings of others we may observe the lustre and variety of all the colours of gold, and silver, and azure, and mother of pearl; the eyes that sparkle on the peacock's tail; the edges bordered with shining silks and furbelows, and the magnificence of the richest fringe. Behold! ye pilgrims of this earth, behold! THOMSON. With what vigour do they sport in the solar ray, exult in existence, inhale the odoriferous breeze, and rove in fickle flight from flower to flower! Their wings (all glorious to behold) GAY. That beautiful little insect, the lady-bird, or ladycow, now seen, and so often charged with being the cause of blights in apple-trees, is in reality the best remedy against that disease. The lady-bird, both when perfect and in its larva state, feeds entirely upon the aphis, a genus of which the blight in question is a speMany of the larvæ of the lady-bird may be seen in the cankered spots of apple-trees; not indeed sucking their nutritious juices, but devouring the real enemy of the future hopes of the orchard. cies. The utility of this insect, in destroying the blight, is well known in the hop-countries; and it was probably some antient observation on their mode of life, that first gave rise to a prepossession in their favour, whence our infant lips were taught to sing Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home, Your house is on fire, your children will burn; and so to let them escape. This remark, we trust, will, founded on experience, be sufficient to prevent our readers from setting about the destruction of these friendly insects, who spend their whole life in devouring that bane of vegetation, the aphis, or blight. How easily are we led, by imperfect observation, to make mistakes that are not only fatal to the harmless creatures that fall under our misplaced suspicion, but are, eventually, most injurious to ourselves ' ! The common glow-worm, the little planet of the rural scene,' may be observed in abundance in the month of August, when the earth is almost as thickly spangled with them as the cope of heaven is with stars. The glow-worm, like the cricket, lady-bird, and many other insects, makes but little use of its wings; for they are seldom seen on any situation more elevated than the summit of a barley-ear, or a stunted furze-bush; but are generally found on banks under hedges, and sometimes in the interstices of rugged elm-roots, and the foundations of buildings.-See T. T. for 1815, p. 253. Bright stranger, welcome to my field, Here feed in safety, here thy radiance yield, Say, dost thou kindly light the fairy train Hanging thy lamp upon the moistened blade? What lamp so fit, so pure as thine, And chase the horrors of the midnight shade! Oh! may no feathered foe disturb thy bow'r, 1 See Monthly Magazine for August 1815, p. 33. Oh! may no ruthless torrent of the sky, Of pausing Nature thou art pleased to dwell, And shed thro' life a lustre round thy cell. How diff'rent man, the imp of noise and strife, And shine in solitude and shade! DR. WOLCOT. Flies (musca) now abound in our windows. If we attentively observe the common house-fly, when it visits the tea-table in search of food, we may very distinctly see it put forth its proboscis to suck up any sweet liquid, and it then appears of a considerable length; but, if we catch the same fly, we find its proboscis drawn in close to its head: on examining the extremity of it with a magnifying glass, we find it furnished with two muscular lips. Besides this peculiar structure of the trunk, which furnishes the most essential character, the antennæ are deserving of some attention. They are composed of several small and short pieces or joints, the terminal one of which is generally largest, and frequently flattened: from the middle or bottom of this terminal joint generally proceeds a lateral hair, which is sometimes simple, sometimes feathery; hence the muscæ are divided into such as have antennæ nudæ, setariæ and plumosæ. In general, the larvæ of flies resemble a kind of soft white worm, without feet, and are well known by the name of maggots; though that name is not entirely confined to the larvae of flies,-we call the larva of |