But nature has wisely prevented this devastation; for the head of the nymph, and consequently of the fly, is always placed in a downward direction. Its first instinctive movements must, therefore, be in the same direction. That the young flies may escape from their respective cells, the mother digs a hole at the bottom of the long tube, which makes a communication with the undermost cell and the open air. Sometimes a similar passage is made near the middle of the tube. By this contrivance, as all the flies instinctively endeavour to cut their way downward, they find an easy and convenient passage; for they have only to pierce the floor of their cells, which they readily perform with their teeth.

Another small species of solitary bees dig holes in the earth to make a convenient habitation for their

young. Their nests are composed of cylindrical cells fixed to one another, and each of them, in figure, resembles a thimble. Their bottom, of course, is convex and rounded. The bottom of the second is inserted into the entry of the first; and the entry of the second receives the bottom of the third. Sometimes only two of these cells are joined together; and, at other times, we find three or four, which form a kind of cylinder. This cylinder is composed of alternate bands of two different colours: those of the narrowest, at the juncture of two cells, are white, and those of the broadest are of a reddish brown. The cells consist of a number of fine membranes, formed of a glutinous and transparent substance from the animal's mouth. The bee fills each cell with the farina of flowers diluted with honey, and in this paste she deposits an egg. She then covers the cell, by gluing to its mouth a fine cellular substance taken from the leaves of some plant; and in this manner she proceeds till her cylindrical nest is completed. The worms which are hatched from

the eggs feed upon the paste, so carefully laid up for them by the mother, till they are transformed into flies similar to their parents.

Among wasps, as well as bees, there are solitary species, which carry on no joint operations. These solitary wasps are not less ingenious in constructing proper habitations for their young, nor less provident in laying up for them a store of nourishment sufficient to support them till they are transformed into flies, or have become perfect animals.

I shall conclude this paper with observing, that some of the ancient philosophers, and, in particular, Pythagoras and Plato, were so struck by the wonderful ingenuity displayed in the operation of bees, that they thought them endued, not merely with instinct, but with something of celestial intellect. this idea Virgil thus alludes:

His quidam signis, atque hæc exempla secuti,
Esse apibus partem divinæ mentis, et haustus
Ethereos dixere.

Induced by such examples, some have taught
That bees have portions of ethereal thought;
Endued with particles of heav'nly fires.

To

DRYDEN.

No. XLI.

SUMMER REFLECTIONS.

From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed,
Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes,
In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth:
He comes attended by the sultry Hours,
And ever-fanning Breezes, on his way;
While, from his ardent look, the turning Spring
Averts her blushful face; and earth and skies
All smiling, to his hot dominion leaves.

THOMSON.

Now jocund Summer, with her honied breath,
Sweetening the golden grain and blithsome gale,
Displays her sun-burnt face,

Beneath her hat of straw.

HEADLEY.

IN the month of May the Spring glows with all the mixtures of colorific radiance, and before the expiration of June that season commences when opening beauty and increasing variety are succeeded by the more uniform scenes of maturity and perfection.

The Summer season, which commences on the twenty-first of June, is so distinguished by a uniformity of character, that, as I have observed before, the great poet of the Seasons has comprised the whole of his description within the limits of a single day. To give importance, moreover, to a season, in other respects so unproductive of subject, his muse has spread her flight to the torrid zone, and enriched her landscape with foreign beauties and exotic wonders.

Nature, in our temperate regions, appears in this season to have nearly finished her annual work; and she begins to lose something of her variety. Nothing, indeed, can be more beautiful than the ver

1

dure of the orchards and woods, but the shades of hue which they exhibit are no longer so agreeable. The meadows begin to whiten, and the flowers that adorn them are mowed down. The corn gradually assumes a yellow hue, and the colours that decorate the rural scene are no longer so numerous. How

lately did the glowing beauty and variety of these, with the notes, as various, of a multitude of birds, display at once all the charms of novelty, and inspire inexpressible delight!

It is in the novelty of objects, indeed, in their appearing at least to be new and uncommon, that the more exquisite enjoyment of them consists. Novelty excites a pleasure in the imagination, because it strikes the soul with an agreeable surprise, gratifies its curiosity, and gives it an idea of which it was not possessed before. It contributes, therefore, to vary human life: it tends to divert and refresh the mind, and to take off that satiety of which we are apt to complain in the entertainments to which we are constantly accustomed; it is that which gives its charm to variety, where the mind is every instant called off to something new, and the attention not suffered to dwell too long, and waste itself, on any particular object. Novelty, moreover, improves whatever is beautiful and pleasing, and makes it afford to the mind a double entertainment. Hence we may deduce the reason why the groves, and fields, and meadows, which, at any season of the year are delightful to the view, are never more so than in the opening of Spring, when they are all new and fresh, with their first gloss upon them, and not yet too familiar to the eye. But in Summer, in proportion as we advance toward Autumn, these pleasing effects insensibly decrease; the song of the nightingale is no longer heard; and that favourite enjoyment of the country, a walk through fields of

verdure, becomes inconvenient and unpleasing, on account of the great heat which sometimes prevails.

Yet Summer has still inexpressible charms, and exhibits proofs every day of the unbounded goodness of the great Creator. It is that season of felicity in which he dispenses his blessings more abundantly to every living creature. Nature, after having reanimated and enlivened us by all the pleasures of Spring, is incessantly employed, during Summer, to provide those enjoyments which are most agreeable to the senses, to facilitate the means of subsistence, and to excite in our breasts the correspondent sentiments of gratitude and love.

What can be more delightful than to view the waving fields of corn just bending to the sickle! what theme can so powerfully call forth the song of praise to the GOD of HARVESTS! How innocent, how grateful, the employment of the reaper!

Waked by the gentle gleamings of the morn,
Soon clad, the reaper, provident of want,
Hies cheerful-hearted to the ripened field;
Nor hastes alone; attendant by his side
His faithful wife, sole partner of his cares,
Bears on her breast the sleeping babe; behind
With steps unequal trips her infant train:
Thrice happy pair, in love and labour join'd!-

All day they ply their task; with mutual chat
Beguiling each the sultry, tedious hours.
Around them falls in rows the severed corn,
Or the shocks rise in regular array.

But when high noon invites to short repast,
Beneath the shade of sheltering thorn they sit,
Divide the simple meal, and drain the cask:
The swinging cradle lulls the whimp'ring babe
Meantime, while growling round, if at the tread
Of hasty passenger alarmed, as of their store
Protective, stalks the cur with bristling back,
To guard the scanty scrip and russet frock1.

White's Selborne, vol. ii, p. 343.