shopkeeper's children. These matters displease me; but there is another that hurts my pride,-I mean the contempt shown for my understanding, which these "lords of the creation are very apt to discover, thinking that nobody knows anything but themselves. I heard my master say that he expected I should some day tumble down the ha-ha; whereas I would have him to know that I can discover a precipice from the plain ground as well as himself. Sometimes my master repeats with much seeming triumph the following lines, which occasion a loud laugh :

"Timotheus, placed on high
Amid the tuneful quire,

With flying fingers touch'd the lyre.”

For my part, I see no wit in the application, nor know whence the verses are quoted; perhaps from some prophet of his own, who if he penned them for the sake of ridiculing tortoises, bestowed his pains, I think, to poor purposes. These are some of my grievances; but they sit very light on me, in comparison of what remains behind.

Know then, tender-hearted lady, that my great misfortune, and what I have never divulged to any one before, is the want of society with my own kind. This reflection is always uppermost in my mind, but comes upon me with irresistible force every spring. It was in the month of May last that I resolved to elope from my place of confinement; for my fancy had represented to me that probably many agreeable tortoises, of both sexes, might inhabit the heights of Baker's Hill, or the extensive plains of the neighbouring meadow, both of which I could discern from the terrace. One sunny morning I watched my opportunity, found the wicket open, eluded the vigilance of the gardener, and escaped into the sainfoin, which begun to be in bloom, and thence into the beans. I was missing eight days, wandering in this wilderness of sweets, and exploring the meadow at times. But my pains were all to no purpose; I could find no society such as I sought for. I began to grow hungry, and to wish myself at home. I therefore came forth in sight, and surrendered myself up to Thomas, who had been inconsolable in my absence.

Thus, Madam, have I given you a faithful account of my satisfactions and sorrows, the latter of which are mostly uppermost. You are a lady, I understand, of much sensibility; let me therefore make my case your own in the following manner, and then you will judge of my feelings: suppose you were to be kidnapped away to-morrow in the bloom of your life to a land of tortoises, and were never to see again a human face for fifty years!!! Think on this, dear lady, and pity,

Your sorrowful Reptile,

TIMOTHY.

This much is known of Mr. White. Further particulars of him must be sought in his Diaries, his History of Selborne, and in his Correspondence. He was, strictly speaking, an out-door naturalist, following the pursuit with unwearied diligence, and enjoying the charms of rural scenery with unbounded admiration.

"Me far above the rest, Selbornian scenes,

The pendant forests, and the mountain greens,
Strike with delight: there spreads the distant view,
That gradual fades till sunk in misty blue;
Here nature hangs her slopy woods to sight;
Rills hurl between and dart a quivering light."

MR. WHITE.

His Diaries were kept with unremitting diligence; and in his annual migrations to Oriel College, and other places, his man Thomas, who seems to have been well qualified for the office, recorded the weather journal. The state of the thermometer, barometer, and the variations. of the wind are noted, as well as the quantity of rain which fell. We have daily accounts of the weather, whether hot or cold, sunny or cloudy: we have, also information of the first tree in leaf, and even of the appearance of the first fungi, and of the plants first in blossom. We are told when mosses vegetate, and when

insects first appear and disappear. There are also remarks with regard to fish and other animals; with miscellaneous observations and memoranda on various subjects. For instance, we are told that on the 21st of June, house-martins, which had laid their eggs in an old nest, had hatched them, and that when this is the case they get the start of those that build new ones by ten days or a fortnight. He speaks with some degree of triumph to having ricked his meadow hay in delicate order, and that Thomas had seen a pole-cat run across his garden. He records the circumstance of boys playing at taw on the Plestor; and that he had set Gunnery, one of his bantam hens, on nine of her own eggs. He complains that dogs come into his garden at night and eat his gooseberries, and gives a useful hint to farmers and others, when he says that rooks and crows destroy an immense number of chaffers, and that were it not for these birds the chaffers would destroy everything.

In addition to his remarks on Natural History, Mr. White recorded in his diaries the visits which were occasionally paid him, and carefully notes down the births of his numerous nephews and nieces, (amounting to about sixty-three at the time his diary closed,) as they respectively came into the world. He "chronicled" his ale and beer, as they were brewed by his man Thomas, who appears to have been his valet, gardener, and assistant naturalist. He takes notice of the quantity of port wine which came to his share when he divided a pipe of it with some of his neighbours; and he makes frequent mention of his crops, his fine and early cucumbers, and the flavour of his Cardilliac peas,-he evidently passing much of his time in his garden. The appearance of his neighbours' hops, the beginning and ending of their harvests, their bees, pigs, and poultry, are also noticed in succession, and appear to have added to the interest he took in rural life.

Insignificant as these little details may appear, they were not thought to be so by a man whose mind was evidently stored with considerable learning, who possessed a cultivated and elegant taste for what is beautiful in nature, and who has left behind him one of the most delightful works in the English language,-a work which will be read as long as that language lasts, and which is equally remarkable for its extreme accuracy, its pleasing style, and the agreeable and varied information it contains.

In order to enable our readers to enter more fully into the merits of the "Natural History of Selborne," some account of that village, its neighbourhood, and of Mr. White's residence, is now given.

Selborne is situated in the extreme eastern corner of Hampshire, bordering on Sussex. It is about fifty miles. from London, and between the towns of Alton and Petersfield. It is evident (whatever may be the case at present) that in Mr. White's time the village was not readily approached by carriages. The charming deep sandy lanes in that part of Hampshire and Sussex, overgrown as they are with stunted oaks, hazels, hawthorns, and dog-roses, and the banks covered with wild strawberries, primroses, and pretty ferns, would in winter be filled with mud, to say nothing of the cart-ruts. I find amongst Mr. White's papers the following pleasing lines, addressed to one of his nieces, Mrs. J. White, by her father, and signed G. T., and which will give some idea of the roads of Selborne :—

"From henceforth, my dear M- I'll no longer complain

Of your ruts and your rocks, of your roads and your rain;
Here's a proverb that suits with your cottage most pat,
'When a thing's of most worth, 'tis most hard to get at.'
And besides, where to find such another retreat
As the shades of old Selborne, so lonely and sweet,
Where the lover so freely may languish and sigh,

Where the student may read, and the Christian may die?

But as now neither lover nor student am I,
(I'm a Christian, I hope, but I wish not to die,)
So nor books, nor a mistress, nor zeal have inspired
My muse to commend what she ne'er has admired.

Yet as mind gives a comfort to deserts and dens,
Makes a turnpike of bogs, and a garden of glens;
So affection, kind chemist! I feel, can convert
To the sweetest of sweets what I thought to be dirt.
Be then welcome, dear Selborne, as welcome can be,
As the primrose of May, or the hawthorn to me;
For 'tis there (may they ever be blest from above!)
Dwell a daughter and son, and the children I love." *

As Selborne is approached from Alton, the beauty of its valley is seen as it bursts suddenly into view, and affords a prospect of great rural beauty. A foot-bridge is thrown. across a deep ravine of rocky bank, at the bottom of which a little streamlet runs over a road, which is at once its channel and the carriage-way to the village. From this spot the precipitous beechen hangers may be seen, so often referred to by Mr. White; the white tower of the village church; the snug parsonage, and the pretty cottages, sprinkled over the landscape.

Farm-houses, with their barns and straw-yards, hop-lands, and corn-fields, and what is seldom seen in these degenerate days, a may-pole, add to the beauty of the scenery.

And here I may be allowed to quote a passage or two from an article which appeared some years ago in the New Monthly Magazine, on the village of Selborne, written by one who appears to have visited it out of pure love for the memory of Mr. White, and from the pleasure he had derived from his writings.

"The traveller who would view fair Selborne aright,' should humour the caprices of our fickle climate, and visit

* [These lines were written by Mr. Gabriel Tahourdin.]