Summer. The setting in, or continuance, however, of this fine weather is uncertain. It is often preceded, as well as followed, by cool but westerly gales and intervals of showers.

The woods are roaring in the gale

That whirls their faded leaves afar:
The crescent moon is cold and pale,
And swiftly sinks the evening star:
High on the mossy bank reclined,
I listen to the eddying wind.

Peacock.

the green

But few flowers are to be seen this month; house, however, is in perfection, and many of the late fruits are in season. Grapes are now quite ripe in England, France, Flanders, and other countries having the same isothermal line. In Italy, Portugal, Spain, and the south of France and Germany, they are ripe nearly a month sooner. Virgil compared the sorts of grapes in number to the sands on the sea shore.

The botanic garden of Geneva possesses a collection of more than 600 varieties of vines, collected from different vineyards in France, Switzerland, and Italy. In the month of November, 1827, a selection of the best varieties was sent to Mr. L. Alaman, one of the principal proprietors in the Mexican United States. He planted them on his lands in the state of Guanaxuato, and writes that a hundred and five stocks are in full vegetation. He adds, that, on the elevated plain of Mexico, the same inconvenience is not experienced in the cultivation of the vine which arrests its cultivation at Cayenne, and in several parts of the United States; namely that the grapes of the same cluster ripen unequally. At Mexico, they ripen together as in Europe, and it is to be pre

sumed, that this cultivation, which was formerly prohibited by the Spanish Government, might be established there, the climate resembling that of Murcia or Rome. If these hopes are realized, it will be curious that the Botanic Garden of Geneva should have been the means of furnishing these plants to South America. It will be recollected that it was the Paris garden that supplied Martinique with the coffee plants, from which originated all the coffee plantations in America; and that, in our own days, it has sent the bread fruit tree to Cayenne, where it is now extensively cultivated. Facts like these, evidently demonstrate the practical utility of these establishments, which are commonly looked upon as exclusively subserviant to theoretical studies.

During this month the common martin disappears; and, shortly afterwards, the smallest kind of swallow, the sand martin, migrates. The roystor, or hooded crow, arrives from Scotland and the northern part of England, being driven thence by the severity of the season. The woodcock returns and feeds on our eastern coasts. Various kinds of waterfowl make their appearance; and about the middle of the month, wild geese leave the fens, and go to the rye lands, to devour the young corn.

Of the swallow, Sir Humphery Davy says:-"The swallow is one of my favorite birds, and a rival of the nightingale; for he glads my sense of seeing, as much as the other does my sense of hearing. He is the joyous prophet of the year, the harbinger of the best season: he lives a life of enjoyment, amongst the loveliest forms of nature: winter is unknown to him; and he leaves the green meadows of England in autumn, for the myrtle and orange groves of Italy, and for the palms of Africa; he

has always objects of pursuit, and his success is secure. Even the beings selected for his prey are poetical, beautiful and transient. The ephemeræ are saved by his means from a slow and lingering death in the evening, and killed in a moment, when they have known nothing of life but pleasure. He is the constant destroyer of insects, the friend of man; and with the stork and the ibis, may be regarded as a sacred bird. His instinct, which gives him his appointed seasons, and which teaches him always when and where to move, may be regarded as flowing from a divine source; and he belongs to the oracles of nature, which speak the awful and intelligible language of a present Deity.”

The following, as connected with this month, is interesting :-Dr Gerard, an eminent French naturalist and physician, visited the valley of Sulej, in 1829, and made some curious observations at that place, which is the highest inhabited spot on the globe. The principal object of his journey was the introduction of vaccination into Thibet; but it appears that the prejudices of the rajah prevented him from succeeding in that humane enterprise. One of the villages where he stopt was proved to be 14,700 feet above the level of the sea. At this place, in the month of October, the thermometer in the morning marked 8° 33′ centrigrades below zero; and during the day, the rays of the sun were so hot as to be inconvenient, and yet the waters in the lakes and rivers were frozen during the night, but were free from ice at two o'clock in the afternoon. By means of artificial irrigation, and the action of solar heat, large quantities of rye were raised at this immense height, some of the fields being at 14,900 feet. Dr. Gerard gives his

opinion, that cultivation might be carried as high as from 16 to 17,000 feet. The goats bred in this region are the finest in the country, and are of that species the wool of which is used for the manufacture of shawls. At a height of 15,000 feet, quantities of fossil shells are found on calcareous rocks, upon strata of granite and pulverised schist: they consist of muscle, and others of various forms and dimensions. To the north of the frontier of Konnaowr, Dr. Gerard attained a height of 20,000 feet, without crossing the perpetual snow. At one o'clock in the afternoon, the thermometer was at 2o 78 centigrades below zero. Notwithstanding this extreme elevation, the action of the sun had an unpleasant effect, though in the shade the air was freezing.

AUTUMN STANZAS.

BY J. A. SHEA.

In the balmy hush of evening,
Along the silent shore,

When the red setting sun has ting'd
The ocean's surface o'er;

How soothing to the weary heart

To wander and behold

Those waters chain'd in slumber,

That heaven array'd in gold.

Or to gaze from high mountain top
Upon the vallies down,

When Autumn's bronzing touch has turn'd

The forest's beauty brown

When seldom in the solitude,

Some lingering flow'r appears,

Like the few fading joys that deck

The Autumn of our years.

D d

And when the shrieking billows

Reflect the lightning's light,

'Tis good to mark their Alpine strength
Pursue its foaming flight;

And hear from black and bursting clouds
The living thunder's roll,

That voice of God-that sign of awe,
That teacher of the soul.

And in that thunder's warning,
And in that lightning's light,
To see his flash of anger,

And hear his voice of might-
Bend down before his fiery wrath,
Amid that fearful strife,

And, trembling in our silent hearts,

Acknowledge-this is life!

And now, as we are entering upon the gloomy months of November and December, when the Naturalist will not have so much to attract him abroad, we may perhaps be permitted to introduce a few books to his notice, the perusal of which will agreeably occupy many leisure hours at home.-The Journal of a Naturalist is one of the most instructive and pleasing works of the kind that has appeared since White's Natural History of Selborne, to which it bears a close affinity. The British Naturalist will be found a most valuable compendium of the Natural History of British Birds, combined with much other useful information, conveyed in a pleasing and agreeable style. As a present to a lady, we most cordially recommend The Young Lady's Book, decidedly the most splendid specimen of typographical elegance ever issued from the press. More than half the volume is devoted to subjects of interest to the Naturalist, and illustrated with many hundred engravings of birds, plants, insects, &c. The articles on singing birds, angling, &c. in The Boy's Own Book, are also well designed for alluring the youthful mind to a contemplation of Nature.