Some build the shocks, some load the spacious wains, The stubble peopled by the gleaning throng, JOHN SCOTT. The labours of the sickle completed, those who have toiled in securing the wealth of their employer, now receive the welcome reward of a harvest-supper or festival. Here once a year distinction lowers its crest, BLOOMFIELD. Luxury and refinement, however, have, we fear, of late years, contributed almost entirely to divide the labourer from his employer; and the poet sings of days long past.' The separate table and the costly bowl 6 are but too common at the close of harvest in many parts of England. It is devoutly to be wished' (observes a useful writer), that the farmer, the gentleman, and the clergyman, would ever keep in mind, that personal intercourse, at times, with their inferiors, upon free but not too familiar a footing, tempered with cheerful and innocent mirth, is not only a duty, but their interest, and would tend to attach the labourer to his master, and be one great means of civilizing and purifying society.' We should do well to take a lesson from our continental neighbours in this respect, as their excellent treatment of domestic servants insures the highest fidelity and most inflexible honesty. May the description of the poet again become universal in its application! Labour and mirth united, glow beneath The mid-day sun: the laughing hinds rejoice: Are music. His exulting soul expands: The plenteous feast, beneath some spreading tree, About the 11th of August, the puffin (alca arctica) migrates. Priestholme, or Puffin's Island, about three quarters of a mile from the Isle of Anglesea, abounds with these birds; and their flocks, for multitude, may be compared to swarms of bees. About the middle of the month, the swift disappears, and probably migrates to more southern regions. Rooks begin to roost in their nest trees, and young broods of goldfinches (fringilla carduelis) appear; lapwings (tringa vanellus) and linnets (fringilla linota) congregate; the nuthatch chatters; and, towards the end of the month, the redbreast is again heard. At the beginning of the month, melilot (trifolium officinale), rue (ruta graveolens), the water parsnip Dodsley's Agriculture,' a Poem. The reader may peruse also the remaining stanzas of Mr. John Scott's Elegy written in Harvest,' just quoted. (sysimbrium nasturtium), horehound (marrubium vulgare), water-mint (mentha aquatica), the orpine (sedum telephium), and the gentiana amarella, have their flowers full blown. The purple blossoms of the meadow saffron (colchicum autumnale) now adorn the low moist lands. The number of plants in flower, however, is greatly lessened in August, those which bloomed in the former months running fast to seed. The queen of flowers is no more; we now take leave of this beauty, in the following lines of Waller : Go, lovely Rose, Tell her that wastes her time and me, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In desarts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of Beauty from the light retired; Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die, that she, The common fate of all things rare, May read in thee,— How small a part of time they share That are so wondrous sweet and fair'. 1 Emil. Of all flowers Methinks the rose is best. Serv. Why, gentle madam? Emil. It is the very emblem of a maid: For when the west wind courts her gently, How modestly she blows, and paints the Sun With her chaste blushes! When the north comes near her, Rude and impatient, then, like chastity, She locks her beauties in her bud again, And leaves him to base briars. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. The scarcity of flowers, however, is amply repaid by an abundance of fruits of various kinds and hues: The mealy plum Hangs purpling, or displays an amber hue; BIDLAKE. Heaths and commons are now in all their beauty; the flowers of the various species of heath (erica) covering them with a fine purple hue. Ferns also begin to flower, the commonest sort of which is the fern or brakes (polypodium filix-mas); but the female (pteris aquilina) is the most beautiful plant. Insects still continue to swarm; they sport in the sun from flower to flower, from fruit to fruit, and subsist themselves upon the superfluities of nature, The bee continues his labours. From the SPANISH of MELENDEZ. That fill the calyx of the rose : Let the soft lily's virgin pride To dread your pilf'ring kisses cease, And let the whiter orange-flow'r Breathe its ambrosial sweets in peace. And let the blushing pink unspoiled But on my Laura's budding lips Alight with murmurs soft and still; X It is not the air only that abounds with insects at this season; ditches and stagnant pools of water are equally prolific of them. One of those most commonly found in these haunts, is the monoculus apus; and, as it is an excellent subject for the microscope, we shall give our readers some account of an examination of one by the aid of this powerful instrument. This insect is about the size of a flea, and appears, when examined by the microscope, to be covered with a firm crustaceous skin, which opens under the belly of the animal, in the manner of a bivalve shell. This skin or shell, if it may be so called, is of a greenish colour, and full of indentures, which form very beautiful reticulations. It is so transparent, that the eggs which, when excluded, are carried on the back of the female till the young are produced, as well as the legs, body, and intestinal motion, plainly appear. This insect, to the sight unassisted by the microscope, appears to have but one eye, whence the genus monoculus receives its name. However the fact is, on account of the smallness of the head, both eyes seem united, being situated in the very middle of the forehead. Each eye is composed of a number of smaller ones, which appear like smooth, bright, hemispheric dots. It is worthy of remark, that the external motion of the eye, which insects generally want, is found in the utmost perfection in this creature. Each eye turns, as it were, on its own centre, which motion is produced by an elegant collection of muscles, that proceed from each eye like cords from a pulley. The skin which covers the head is so pellucid, that these muscles, with their contraction and lengthening, may at any time be seen with a first or second magnifier, and well-adapted light. The formation of this insect's branching forelegs is very curious: by the help of these and the other legs that are under the shell, its motions are performed in the water with great velocity. The young of this insect are endowed with a very |