the coltsfoot (tussilago), the cotton-grass (eriophorum vaginatum), wood spurge (euphorbia amygdaloides), butcher's broom (ruscus aculcatus), the daffodil (pseudonarcissus) in moist thickets, the rush (juncus pilosus), and the spurge laurel (daphne laureola), found in woods, are now in bloom. The common whitlow grass (draba verna) on old walls; the yellow Alpine whitlow grass (draba aizoides) on maritime rocks; and the mountain pepper-wort (lepidum petræum) among limestone rocks, flower in March.

The sweet violet (viola odorata) sheds its delicious perfumes in this month.

To the VIOLET.

Sweet flower! of the tranquil glade,
Emblem of virtue, in the shade;
Rearing thy head, to brave the storm,
That wou'd thy beauty soon deform-
Of all the flowers the seasons bring,
Of all that decorate the Spring,
To me, while doomed to wander here,
The fragrant Violet shall be dear.

How like the Violet in th' wild,

In Claremont's Groves the Princess smiled,
Till Gop (who gave those blossoms birth)
So fair a Flower removed from earth:

Nor left, alas! one Bud behind

To tranquilize a nation's mind,

Save that sweet Bud which strews the way,
Blest Hope', to an eternal day.

STUBBINGS.

The gannets or Soland geese (pelicanus bassanus) resort in March to the Hebrides, and other rocky isles of North Britain, to make their nests and lay their eggs.

Much amusement may be derived in this month, as well as in the last, from watching the progress of worms, insects, &c. from torpidity to life, particularly on the edges or banks of ponds.-See T.T. for 1817, p. 53.

* Spes tutissima cœlis,

Towards the close of the month, bees (apis mellifica) venture out of their hives. For a full account of this interesting insect we refer the reader to our four first volumes.

Thou cheerful Bee! come, freely come,
And travel round my woodbine bow'r,
Delight me with thy wandering hum,
And rouse me from my musing hour:
Oh! try no more yon tedious fields,
Come taste the sweets my garden yields;
The treasure of each blooming mine,
The bud-the blossom-all are thine!
And careless of this noontide heat,
I'll follow as thy ramble guides,
To watch thee, pause and chafe thy feet,
And sweep them o'er thy downy sides;
Then in a flower's bell nestling lie,
And all thy busiest ardour ply;
Then o'er the stem, though fair it grow,
With touch rejecting, glance and go.

O Nature kind! O labourer wise!
That roam'st along the summer ray,
Glean'st ev'ry bliss thy life supplies,
And meet'st prepared thy wintry day;
Go-envied go-with crowded gates,
The hive thy rich return awaits;
Bear home thy store in triumph gay,
And shame each idler on thy way!

SMYTH.

In the latter end of March, chickens run about; a brimstone-coloured butterfly (papilio rhamni) appears; black beetles fly about in the evening; and bats issue from their places of concealment. Roach and dace float near the surface of the water, and sport about in pursuit of insects. Daffodils are in flower; peas appear above ground; the sea-kale (crambe maritima), a vegetable somewhat similar to, but more delicate than, asparagus, now begins to sprout. The male blossoms of the yew-tree expand and discharge their farina. Sparrows are busily employed in forming their nests. Young lambs are yeaned this month.

If the season be dry, the stone-picker is sent

into the fields to gather stones for the road, by which she accumulates heaps for the inspection of the mineralogist. Mankind and the elements are, indeed, constantly at work for him. When laid upon the road, they are more amply spread out to his view, and the carriage passing over breaks and exhibits the interiors. Every fresh ploughing turns up fresh treasures, every frost crumbles the adhering dirt, and every shower helps to wash them clean before him; the torrent rolls them from the banks into the brook, the drought lays, them bare, and the sun, in his daily course, from various points, shines upon the crystals and discovers them in sparkling beauty. The digging of a well, and the opening of a gravel pit, a chalk pit, or a stone quarry, are all interesting events to a mineralogist.-See Outlines of Geology and Mineralogy, prefixed to T.T. for 1818.

In our last year's Diary for March (p. 73), we gave a poetical picture of the farm-yard in this month, together with some observations on the wonderful instinct of the hen in constructing her nest and rearing her young'; in unison with this subject, is Bloomfield's description of the gander : He comes, the pest and terror of the yard, His full-fledged progeny's imperious guard; The GANDER; spiteful, insolent, and bold, At the colt's footlock takes his daring hold; There, serpent-like, escapes a dreadful blow, And straight attacks a poor defenceless cow: Each booby goose th' unworthy strife enjoys, And hails his prowess with redoubled noise. Then back he stalks, of self-importance full, Seizes the shaggy forehead of the bull, Till whirled aloft he falls; a timely check, Enough to dislocate his worthless neck;

To p. 74, line 13, of our last volume, add the following:'Not exactly so, for she will sit to hatch ducks' eggs for four weeks, and turkeys' eggs for the same time. Some hens, also, when disappointed of hatching one set of eggs, from their being addled, will sit upon a second set if they can get at them.

H

C

For, lo! of old, he boasts an honoured wound;
-Behold that broken wing that trails the ground!
Thus fools and bravoes kindred pranks pursue;
As savage quite, and oft as fatal too.

Happy the man that foils an envious elf,
Using the darts of spleen to serve himself!

In this month the farmer dresses and rolls his meadows; spreads ant-hills; plants quicksets, osiers, &c.; sows flax seed, artificial grasses, beans and peas, broom and whin seeds, and grass seeds among wheat. About the 23d, he ploughs for and sows oats, and hemp and flax. A dry season is very important to the farmer, that he may get the seed early into the ground.

Your barly land labor with plough and plogh-share,
The roots of your fruit-trees to couer haue care;
Ply planting and graffing, sow beans, oates and peason,
Set sit-ruls and sage, for now is the season.
Eate good meates and cleanse thee,

Let bloud, if neede vrge thee.

The dauntless stagge ashamed to see
His antlers hrave now prest to wracke,

From cragges and mountes to couch doth flee
To mourn the horror of his lacke.

FIG TREE (Ficus carica).-This tree seldom exceeds eight feet in height. The trunk is about the size of a human arm. The branches are smooth, with oblong white dots. There are many different sorts of this fruit tree: the principal are worthy of notice. The largest is the brown or chestnut coloured Ischia fig: this sort is purple within. It very often bursts open when ripe, and has a sweet and highly-flavoured pulp. When planted against hot walls, it will ripen two plentiful crops of fruit every year. The black Genoa fig has a skin of a very dark purple colour, and is covered with a purple farina like that observed upon some

sorts of plums. This farina, if suffered to touch the lips, produces a very unpleasant stinging kind of sensation. The inside of the fruit is of a bright red colour, and the flesh is very highly flavoured. The large white Genoa fig. This is a globular-formed fruit, with a'thin yellowish coloured skin, and is red within when fully ripe. It is a good sort, but the trees are generally unproductive. The Maltese fig is of a pale brown colour, both outside and in, and is very sweet and well flavoured. If it were permitted to hang upon the trees till shrivelled by the sun, it would become a fine sweetmeat. There are two kinds of Naples figs, the flesh of both of which is well flavoured. The yellow Ischia fig is a large fruit of a pyramidal form. The skin is yellow when ripe, and the flesh purple and well flavoured, but the trees do not produce much fruit in our climate, though the branches grow very luxuriantly. The Madonna, which is also called the Brunswick and Hanover fig, is a long pyramidal larger sized fruit. The skin is brown, and the flesh of a lighter colour, but the flavour not excellent. The common blue or purple fig is a very productive sort, and ripens its fruit in August. The fig tree has the same name, with little variation, in all the languages of Europe. The first that were introduced into England are still remaining in the garden of Lambeth Palace! They are of the white Marseilles kind, and bear delicious fruit, They cover a surface of forty feet in breadth. Tradition says they were planted by Cardinal Pole; and the account is very probable; for it is generally allowed that fig trees were brought into England in the reign of Henry the Eighth, and it seems likely that the cardinal, who had long resided in Italy, should delight in cultivating those fruits to which he had been there ao