relationship would perplex the genealogist.

It has been truly remarked, that "no one has ever written the complete history of any one animal." If we rake together all that has been recorded of the hydra, we have a long and marvellous record; yet it is not complete: new points of inquiry are continually suggested, showing, that to understand in all its fulness the history of even the humblest zoophyte, belongs not to one whose duration is so brief, and whose faculties are so limited, as those of man in his present state of existence. Let us therefore move onwards.

The hydra has the power of changing its place at pleasure, and its entire body is naked. In both respects it differs from the members of another family. Their aspect is that of a number of tubes, from a couple of inches to a foot in length, attached to a common base, and often more or less twisted together. From these tubes the name Tubularia is applied to such animals. From each tube, a head of a beautiful red colour projects, looking like an animated flower. These heads or blossoms drop off, the tube remains bare and unsightly, like a tree reft of all its floral glory; yet ere long, from that naked stem, a new head is developed, and the living blossom waves once more its tender filaments, and seeks again the food on which it lives.

The great majority of the zoophytes belonging to the present order, are, however, those which, in little tree-like tufts, decorate the shells of the oyster and the scallop, are attached to stones, or cluster upon the fronds of the large sea-weeds. These are grouped together under a name (Sertularida) which is derived from a Latin word (sertula) signifying a little wreath or garland. Hogarth, our great moral painter, thus writes to Ellis respecting them :"As for your pretty little seed-cups, or vases, they are a sweet confirmation of the pleasure Nature seems to take in superadding an elegance of form to most of her works, wherever you find them. How poor and bungling are all the imitations of Art! When I have the pleasure of seeing you next, we will sit down-nay, kneel down, if you will-and admire these things!" With these striking words, Dr. Johnston commences his History of British Zoophytes, and adds, "He must, indeed, be more than

ordinarily dull and insensate, who can examine them without catching some of the enthusiasm of the artist. They excel all other zoophytical productions in delicacy, and the graceful arrangement of their forms; some borrowing the character of the prettiest marine plants, others assuming the semblance of the ostrich plume; while the variety and elegance exhibited in the figures and sculpture of their miniature cups and chalices, is only limited by the number of their species."*

How shall I describe the growth and nature of these productions! Suppose a miniature tree; its branches covered with little cells, and a minute animal spreading out from each cell its tentacula, feelers, or arms-by whatever name you term themand seizing its allotted food. If touched, or alarmed, it can shrink into its cell. Yet call it not the inhabitant of that asylum to which it has retreated. To do so would convey a wrong idea. It would imply that a living creature had sought safety in a lifeless cell, whether formed by itself or not; it would suggest the idea that the little animal, or "polype," as it is called, is one thing, and the cell another and a distinct thing. But this is not the fact; the polype, the cell, and all the polypes and cells are spoken of as one zoophyte. (Fig. 8.) All the polypes are united together by the pith or medulla of the stem and branches. Each, while feeding itself, is procuring food for all; and the entire may be regarded as one organism, acquiring sustenance by the joint action of, perhaps, a thousand mouths. The repetition of an organ indicates an humble rank in the scale of animated existence. It did so in the many stomachs of the polygastric animalcules; it does the same in the multitu

In bringing this extract before my young readers, I do so, not only for the purpose of introducing them to an admirable work, from which the greater part of my own information is derived, them the example of its gifted author, who has but also for the higher purpose of placing before turned to such excellent account-in this, and in other departments of science-the snatches of leisure occurring in the life of a physician in extensive practice, who can scarcely call an hour his own. "Idleness," he justly remarks, "has no leisure." That one whose hands are full of business can make leisure, he has shown by his example; that he can turn it to good account, his science, but with the truest spirit of poetry and writings prove; for they are imbued, not only with devotion.

sons, cells of larger size and of a peculiar shape are observable, (Fig. 9.) These contain the ova, or eggs, which, gifted in their more advanced condition with powers of locomotion, diffuse themselves through the waters of the ocean, and each becomes in turn the founder of a colony, more populous than the greatest city over which the eagles of imperial Rome ever floated.

On such subjects our ideas fall far short of the actual truth. Hear the statement of Dana, geologist of the United States' exploring expedition, as given in his work on the Structure and Classification of Zoophytes. "The first polyp with which the zoophyte commences thus gives out a bud, and this another, and so a succession is formed, and the little stem is gradually lengthened; branchlets grow out, and the plume or miniature tree is finally completed. The whole may be the work of a few weeks, or months, though they usually continue budding and growing for some years. Before the zoophyte has reached its limits in size, the number of polyps becomes immensely large. (Fig. 10). In a single specimen of Plumularia (P. angulosa), collected by the

light. They do so when struck or otherwise irritated, appearing like so many diamond sparks. Every polype seems to have the power of emitting or withholding the light at pleasure; and when the trawl of the fisherman is drawn at midnight, or groves of the large tangle are disturbed by the dredger, the phenomenon is eminently striking and beautiful. Crabbe, whose poetry evinces minute accuracy in all its delineations of nature, animate or inanimate, has described this appearance; but to all my young friends who live near the coast, I would say, "Go and see it for yourselves." It has been already stated, that the present order derives its name from the polypes having a resemblance to the hydra, the species most celebrated. But other polypes present a star-like figure, and from this circumstance they are formed into a group or order distinguished by a term expressive of this resemblance, namely, "Asteroida." Of these I shall speak in the next paper.

of these periods, yet there is no point of time at which we observe a natural division or line of demarcation between them, The daylight fades into twilight, and darkness spreads her cloak so stealthily, that we cannot say when she began "to hang her spangled mantle o'er our heads.”

The light robes of spring slowly assume the gaudier hues of summer; summer insensibly fades into autumn; autumn unobserved is transformed to winter; while from out the snows of winter peep spring flowers again, In like manner, we do not find that Nature is guided by the almanack in those changes of weather which are associated with particular months. If during a long course of time it was found that in January we had frost and snow; in February a thaw; in March wind; and in April that we were favoured with warm showers-we should naturally think of snow as the characteristic of January; of thaw as associated with February; of wind as connected with March; and we should expect to have a repetition of showers and sunshine in April. But there are no days

THE MONTHS.

FEBRUARY.

"Muttering, the winds at eve, with blunted point
Blow hollow, blustering from the south subdued.
The frost resolves into a trickling thaw,
Spotted the mountains shine; loose sleet de-

scends

And floods the country round. The rivers swell, Of bonds impatient. Sudden from the hills, O'er rocks and woods, in broad brown cataracts,

A thousand snow-fed torrents shoot at once; And, where they rush, the wide resounding plain Is left one slimy waste."

"He giveth snow like wool: he scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes. He casteth forth his ice like morsels; who can stand before his cold? He sendeth out his words and melteth them; he causeth his winds to blow, and the waters flow."

THERE are not in nature any of those artificial divisions and distinctions which men for their convenience have established. Though we speak of day and night, of winter and summer, of spring and autumn; and though we may contrast the features * "See, as they float along, th' entangled weeds Slowly approach, upborne on bladdery beads; Wait till they land, and you shall then behold The fiery sparks those tangled fronds unfoldMyriads of living points; th' unaided eye Can but the fire, and not the form descry." The Borough, Letter IX.

66

from stillness to wind, from settled to changeable weather, can be expected to occur. The beginning of each month usually resembles, in its terrestrial phenomena, its predecessor. We generally experience a continuance of January weather at the beginning of February, while at the end we are rejoiced to note the symptoms of approaching spring. At the beginning we have frost and snow, then comes a thaw, and this is commonly followed by the 'piping strains of March," which begin to blow ere yet February has expired. The commencement of the month is wintry; but towards its close the crocus and snowdrop, and the sallow, show their flowers; the ringdove begins to coo, and the ants venture forth from their curious habitations; the new life of vegetation begins to be seen on warm sheltered banks. Hence the Saxons called February Sprout-kele, because the cabbage or kale then began to fill its buds. The woodlark and the thrush begin their songs, and "the rooks commence their political arrangements for their cawing session;" the mole enlarges his hunting grounds, and the field-crickets open their doors as if to invite the approaching spring.