that it will, perhaps, be safer not to enlarge on this creature's attractions, though it is absolutely harmless, and we have known a little girl keep toads and feed them as special pets. But the "swimming frog," as the Bard of Avon calls him, has nothing repulsive about him, should prove an excellent "maître de natation," may amuse us with his solemn bird-like croak, and, above all, may give us a wonderful object-lesson in natural history metamorphoses, if we will be at the pains to note all the stages through which he passes, from the egg and the tadpole to the four-footed amphibian. The changes are as wonderful as the transition of those of the moth or butterfly as it progresses from the egg to the larva, then to the pupa, and at last to the imago, or perfect insect. The shrinking of the external gills as the internal lungs develop, the sprouting of first the hind legs and then of the anterior pair, while the tail seems used up in their growth, till at length the perfect animal results, are phenomena which will well repay the trouble of tracing them from the beginning to the end.

Then the eft or newt, or erroneously named waterlizard, has its own beauties and features worthy of remark, while the active, sprightly, quick-eyed true lizards present to lovers of animals noticeable traits as they bask in the sunshine or dart after their insect preythe unwary fly, or pre-occupied moth, or tempting beetle.

But among the greatest natural history charms of a country-life must be reckoned the birds. We hardly know where to begin in calling attention to their attrac tions. The beautiful plumage of the finches, woodpeckers, and kingfishers, the graceful flight of the swallow, the wagtail, and the yellow-hammer, the exquisite song of thrush and blackbird (this last reminding us of an old

fashioned Tory squire of portly dimensions and mellowtoned voice); the still more enchanting notes of nightingale and black-cap and garden warbler; the marvellously constructed nests of the tits and chaffinches; the softly tinted eggs of hedge-sparrow, starling, and robin; the saucy pertness of the thrush, and the all-in-earnest run of the starling as they search our lawns for food; the impudent chatter of the magpie and plebeian utterance of the jackdaw while stealing our choicest cherries; the soft coo-coo" of the stock-dove, the solemn caw of the melancholy rook, the scream of the swifts as they sweep and swirl about our chimneys or the church tower; the lazy flight and ominous hoot of the barn owl as he flaps along the hedge-row or over the farmyard, with a thousand other bird associations which crowd across the field of memory, irresistibly draw us in feeling and desire to the rural scenes, amid which we first learnt a now undying love of "beasts and all cattle, creeping things, and flying fowl."

Charms of the country forsooth! Our wonder often is that any who have really known them can tear themselves asunder from them except under direst compulsion, and how there can be found man, woman, or child, who is without taste for the beauties, the wonders, and the ever-blessed influences coming from meadow and woodland, “banks and braes," streamlet and riverside. Nature with a thousand voices seems calling to us, "I have yet boundless glories to reveal," and if our eyes are opened to see her wonders, and our deaf ears are unstopped to listen to her harmonies, our intellectual outlook will be daily enlarged, and our spirits will be attuned continually to the praise of Him by whom all things do consist, and we shall enter wholly into the truths so well expressed by a writer, who says:

"The shadow pictured in the lake

By every tree that trembles,
Is cast for more than just the sake
Of that which it resembles.

"The stars are lighted in the skies
Not merely for their shining;
But, like the light of loving eyes,
Have meanings worth divining.

"The clouds around the mountain-peak,
The rivers in their winding,
Have secrets which, to all who seek,
Are precious in the finding.

"So since the Universe began,
And till it shall be ended,
The soul of Nature, soul of man,
And soul of God are blended."

W. H. HARRIS.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE VALUE OF BOTANY TO COUNTRY
RESIDENTS.

BY THE REV. PROFESSOR G. HENSLOW, M.A., F.L.S., &c.

To be fond of flowers is a very common admission, but to care to study botany is a comparative rarity. If one attempts to speak of the wonders of the floral world, the retort we have heard is, "Oh! you don't really care for flowers; you only like to pick them to pieces." It is difficult, if not impossible, to open the eyes of the person who gives utterance to such a remark-to enable him or her to see that to understand the meaning of a flower and to be able to interpret its life-history, conveys an intellectual pleasure far surpassing that of merely looking at it, admiring it, or else smelling it. The remark, one suspects, is really intended to hide the personal dislike to make the effort required in studying botany-it conveys a lurking belief that it consists only of numerous long Greek and Latin words to be learnt by heart. The fact, however, that those who do venture on this unknown tract of land soon discover that it is an Eden, and not a wilderness, and become enthusiastic in the pursuit, is sufficient evidence that there must be much more in "picking flowers to pieces" than might be imagined.

One would not necessarily plead for botany alone, but for any branch of natural history which might have

a special interest. Still, botany is inexhaustible, and can be studied in the country in all seasons of the year. Even in the depth of winter there are still lichens and mosses, and the tissues of woody plants to be examined.

We may insist upon the intellectual pleasure we ourselves derive from it; but to convey any idea of it to another is not so easy, for it is, of course, a purely subjective enjoyment. Moreover, we must allow for the fact that some persons have honestly tried to enjoy the science, but found that it did not awaken the same interest, much less the enthusiasm, which others boast of. Such persons, however, we believe to be the exception to the rule.

The intellectual pleasure derived from the study of botany passes through four stages. First, there is the delight of collecting, drying, and mounting specimens, the names having been obtained by asking someone who knew them. This I would call the embryonic stage. The second is to understand the morphological structure of plants, ie., all the more conspicuous details of the floral and other parts, so as to be able to distinguish the different species by discovering for oneself their names by means of the descriptions given in technical botanical terms in a "flora," and thereby acquiring a knowledge of classification. Botanists formerly almost entirely limited themselves to this stage. A second branch is the study of vegetable tissues by means of the microscope. This is called histology.

In the third stage one seeks to discover the meaning or uses of the infinite diversity of structures of plants or physiology. It is here, for example, where we trace the correlations existing between floral details and insect aid in the processes of fertilization-an endless source of interest; or, again it involves the study of the functions