seventy-nine years to Noah. Again, 3. Adam could rehearse it for five hundred and thirty-five years to Mahalaleel, and Mahalaleel for two hundred and twentyfour years to Noah. 4. Adam had four hundred and seventy years to instruct Jared in those sublime facts, and Jared was contemporary three hundred and sixty-six years with Noah. Through these four distinct channels Noah could receive a direct account from Adam. But again, 5. Adam lived till Methuselah was two hundred and forty-three years old; time enough surely to obtain an accurate knowledge of all those facts pertaining to the dawn of created existence; and Methuselah lived six hundred years with Noah, and one hundred with his three sons. And once more, 6. Adam lived to see Lamech, the father of Noah, till he was fifty-six years old, and Lamech lived with Noah five hundred and ninetyfive years, and ninety-five years with Shem, Ham, and Japheth. Through these six channels the account could be brought down to the time of the flood. Now the directness of this communication is the same as the following. My grandfather was a sergeant in the revolutionary war, and was wounded in the arm by a musket ball. How do I know that, seeing he died before my birth? He related it to his children, among whom was my mother, and she to me. He was contemporary thirty years with her, and she twenty-five years with me, and that fact is as well established, distinct, and certain to my mind as any recorded in history. Precisely such was the directness of Noah and his sons' information relative to creation; and at the same time the certainty of accuracy was increased by much longer periods of contemporary life, and a six-fold chain of testimony. II. This table shows how many opportunities there were of comparing and correcting different accounts. The perpendicular column of names shows how many were contemporary with generations before them, and the figures in the horizontal line denote the number of years common to both. Thus, Jared was cotemporary with Adam four hundred and seventy years, with Seth five hundred and eighty-two, Enos six hundred and eighty, Cainaan seven hundred and seventy-five, Mahalaleel eight hundred and thirty, and with himself nine hundred and sixty-two. The horizontal column of names and the perpendicular line of figures under them, show the generations after them with which each was contemporary, and the length of time. Thus take the name Jared over the perpendicular line of figures, and follow it down, and he will be found to have lived with his son Enoch three hundred and sixtyfive years and survived him, with Enoch's son Methuselah seven hundred and thirtyfive years, with Lamech five hundred and forty-eight, and Noah three hundred and sixty-six. These two combined show the whole number of generations with which each was contemporary. Thus, Adam was contemporary with none before him; but all after him down to Lamech. Again, take the horizontal name Methuselah, and trace it along the horizontal line of figures, and you find him contemporary with all before him, till you come to himself; then turn down the column under his name and he is contemporary with all after him down to the very year of the flood, being one hundred years with Shem and his brothers. In this way it will be found that all the generations from Adam to the flood were eleven. Of all these Adam was contemporary with nine, Seth with nine, Enos ten, Cainaan ten, Mahalaleel ten, Jared ten, Enoch nine, Methuselah eleven, Lamech eleven, Noah eight, Shem and brothers four. Thus there were never less than nine contemporary generations from Adam to the flood, which would give, in one lineal descent, eighty-one different channels, through which the account might be transmitted. III. Another important point illustrated by this table, is the occurrence of the flood at the precise time, and the only time, when it could have occurred, without contradicting the sacred history, and the chronological account. The reason assigned in sacred history for the deluge, was the great wickedness of men, for which all were to be destroyed, except Noah and his family. Now, if the flood had occurred ten years sooner than it did, it would have involved Methuselah and Lamech in the destruction of the wicked; for the former lived to the very year of the flood, A.M. 1656, and the latter within five years of it, A.M. 1651. And again, it would have involved a contradiction, for if the ark had been completed in fifty instead of one hundred years, and the age of Methuselah and Lamech had been given as it is, it would have brought their death fifty years after the flood! And there is not one year from the creation, at which the date of the flood could have been fixed without involving such a contradiction, till the very date given! This is a very remarkable coincidence; and if the accounts given are fabrications, a most fortunate escape from a fatal blunder. The results of the second table are no less striking and instructive. Whoever imagined, without making the comparison, that Noah lived to see Abram sixty years old, and that Shem lived to witness all the glorious things transacted between God and Abram, and finally to see him buried and to unite in the general mourning for the father of the faithful! Who would have supposed that Abram lived his whole lifetime, Isaac for one hundred and eight years, and Jacob for forty-eight years, with those who for one hundred years of their early life witnessed and assisted in the building of the ark; who were borne triumphantly in it through the swelling flood, saw the opening hea ADAM vens, felt the heaving earth when its deep foundations were broken up, and heard the groan of a perishing world! Yet such was the fact, as will be seen by comparing births and deaths in the second table. Noah was contemporary with every generation after him down to Abram; Shem down to Jacob; and Arphaxad down to Isaac; Salah and Eber again down to Jacob, and probably Eber to the twelve sons of Jacob. Every one disposed to do so, can trace the same facts in regard to the manifold channels of communication from the flood to Abram, Isaac, and Jacob, as we found from the creation to the flood. We will only notice here the whole chain from Adam to the fathers of the Hebrews. Three narrations only were necessary to bring the account of creation to those fathers; and a part of the cords entwined in this "cable strong," may be seen from the following collation: Three narrations bring the account to the time when minute and particular history commences; and when the art of inscribing upon papyrus and probably upon parchment was understood. The participators in the awful scenes of the flood lived to see the Pharaohs, the pyramids and obelisks of Egypt, and probably (Shem, etc., Jacob, } to have those scenes stereotyped on monuments and in hieroglyphics which have come down to us. So that we have the account, in a manner, second-handed from Shem. We here leave this interesting field of observation to be pursued by the intelligent Christian at his leisure. TABLE II. From the Flood to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. It must, however, be remembered, that much of these remarks, and the dates in general, are based upon what is called the short chronology, which there is reason to believe was altered by the Jews after the birth of Christ. The dates appear to be more accurately given in the longer chronology, supported by Hales in his valuable work. A concise but full view of the subject, will be found in a note at the end of the Book of Genesis, in the Commentary published by the Religious Tract Society. sap, The high winds which prevail at this time of the year, perform many important offices. They bear away the clouds, surcharged with rain, over the Atlantic's bosom; promote the rising of the by violently agitating the trees and shrubs; and, drying the smoking earth, prevent the seeds from decaying which have long been lying in the ground. So beneficial, indeed, are their effects, as to have occasioned the proverbial expression, a bushel of March dust is worth a king's ransom;" and they are also so speedy, that a twelve hours' blow will dry the surface of the earth till it is almost dusty, without the assistance of the sun. is The arrival of spring, which nominally commences on the 6th of March, hailed by every one connected with rural scenes as an event of great interest, and our poets may well delight to express their sentiments on so animating a scene. Mrs. Hemans thus gives utterance to the voice of spring: "I come! I come! ye have called me long, I come o'er the mountains with light and song; "From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain; They are sweeping on to the silvery main, They are flashing down from the mountain-brows, They are flinging spray on the forest boughs, They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves, And the earth resounds with the joy of waves." The preservation of the seeds during the severity of winter, and the development of the vegetable creation, are worthy of consideration. Hitherto, the grains which are to cover our land with their produce, to deck the landscape with its beauteous carpet, and to command our admiration on a thousand occasions, have been lying dormant, and apparently dead, under the cold, wet sod, unseen and unregarded, yet, in due time, they have extended their little roots, and opened their tiny leaflets. Nor is this vitality confined to a single season, for seeds have been preserved during a great number of years. Centuries, even, have elapsed, while they have displayed no signs of vitality; and yet, on being restored to a situation favourable to growth, they have vegetated, and at length attained maturity. The three great agents in the development of the vegetative powers of plants are heat, air, and water; and if these essentials are wanting, the germination of the seed will not take place. find that it contains in embryo two disIf we look at a young plant, we shall tinct parts, the one consisting of the root, and the other of the plume, or stalk. The root holds the plant in the ground, and obtains nourishment for its support, while the plume shoots into the open air, and fulfils, in its support of animal life, an important office in the It is by this proeconomy of nature. cess, of which but little is thought, that the beautiful crops of corn, the sight of which cheers our hearts in the autumn, are derived. Intelligence and perseverance have in vain attempted to solve the problem, how all this is effected; and we must be satisfied with bowing to that wonder-working Hand which has produced such results, conscious of our designs of God, even in the humblest inability to fathom the depths of the plants. ""Tis pleasant on the ground to pore, In figure, size, and tint, inlaid, From her rich loom the blooming flowers." With buttercups is associated the primrose, which shines like an earthstar from amid the grass by the brook side, lighting the hand to pluck it." "Oh, who can speak his joys when spring's young morn From wood and pasture opened on his view, When tender green buds blush upon the thorn, And the first primrose dips its leaves in dew." There, too, is our sweet little favourite flower, "the violet that on the mossbank grows." "She lifts up her dewy eye of blue, To the younger sky of the self-same hue." How unpretending is this sweet flower | months past, in large flocks; but those prodigious flights, with which at particular seasons we have been visited, especially in some of the fen districts, are considered as an accumulation from foreign countries. They often associate with other birds, not hesitating to feed with the rook, the pigeon, or the daw; and sometimes, though the friendship is not very cordial, with the fieldfare. They chiefly roost, however, with their own families, preferring some marshy situation, where reeds will afford protection. They very much dislike separation; and if one becomes accidentally separated from its companions, it will sit on some eminence, and disconsolately pipe, till joined by others. Not content, if small parties only are formed, they continually call for associates, with their fine clear note, which may be heard at a considerable distance. They delight, on a fine morning, to sit basking together on the summit of a tree, chattering in a low songlike voice. Their evolutions, too, when on the wing, are deserving of noticeforming themselves into long pear-shaped figures, then expanding into a sheet, or wheeling into a ball, with a promptitude of movement more like soldiers on parade, than the amusements of birds. of spring, hiding itself under the surrounding leaves, and yet how delicious is its fragrance! We are informed, by the author of the "Flora Historica,' that it was a violet that induced John Bertram, a quaker of Pennsylvania, to study botany. He had employed his time in agricultural pursuits, without any knowledge on this subject; but being in the field one day, he gathered a violet, examined its formation, and reflected on it, till he became so prepossessed with its beauties, that he dreamed of it. This circumstance inspired him with a desire of becoming acquainted with plants; he therefore learned as much Latin as was necessary, and soon became the most accomplished botanist of the new world. There, too, is the cowslip, with its saffron tints. Its contemplation recalls to the mind of the old man a thousand pleasing associations connected with youth, when life appeared to him an unlimited horizon; and as he now leans upon his staff to warm himself with the invigorating beams of a spring sun, he remembers that "It is the same. It is the very scent, As the breeding season advances, these prodigious flights separate, and, finally Through the deep grass with wild flowers richly subdividing into pairs, form their sum blent, That smiled to high heaven, from off their verdant seat, But it brings not to him such joy complete." The lambs, which now appear in great numbers, are, with their ewes, a source of continued anxiety and toil to their owner. The shepherd does not go to his bed from the lambing-pen till late at night-and few are the hours allotted by him to sleep. The weakly lambs must be nourished with warm milk; the disposition which some ewes display to illtreat their young must be counteracted; foster-mothers must be provided for the orphans of the flock, by clothing them in the skins of the dead lambs; while, where no foster-mothers can be found, or where lambs are wry-necked, they are generally reared by the assistance of cow's milk, and are called cades, or pets. If you go into the little field close by the farm-house a month hence, these little lambs will run towards you, in anticipation of their meal, and bleating, with their usual mournful tones, if they are disappointed. Starlings may now be observed, as for mer settlements. Many of them, however, leave the kingdom, and travellers inform us that they abound in Persia and the Caucasus. Their nests are formed in church steeples, under eaves, in holes of houses, often in cliffs, and sometimes in pigeon-houses. In consequence of the starling choosing a situation in the dove-cote, it has been accused of all the injuries which pigeons experience, and these birds are not unfrequently shot for deeds they never committed. After the young ones leave the nest, the parents and offspring unite, and gradually form flocks, feeding on grass lands, often in company with the rook, and seeming to prefer the company of the sheep and cattle. Their food consists of worms, snails, and insects. The thrush now charms us with his song; he commences early in the spring, continues at intervals till autumn, frequenting small woods, plantations, and shrubberies, and seeking food on the lawn, in the garden, and the meadow. This usually consists of insects, worms, and garden snails, the shells of which he breaks against the wall, detaching the food with great dexterity. He will sometimes regale himself on a bunch of currants, or a stray gooseberry; but no one will grudge this, who is delighted by his music. There seem to be no regular notes in his song, and sometimes the voices of several may be easily distinguished— | so voluntary are the notes of each. Sometimes a strain will break out, perfectly dissimilar from any preceding series; and yet a hearer may wait a long while for any repetition of it. An intelligent naturalist informs us, that he heard a song-thrush, which frequented a favourite copse, after a certain round of note, "thrilled out most regularly some notes, that conveyed so clearly the words ladybird! ladybird!' that every one near observed the resemblance. survived the winter, and in the ensuing season, the 'ladybird!' 'ladybird!' was still the burden of our evening song; it then ceased, and we never heard this pretty modulation more. Though merely an occasional strain, yet I have noticed it elsewhere-it thus appearing to be a favourite utterance." The blackbird usually associates with the thrush, frequenting hedges, thickets, and plantations. His voice is much mellower than that of the thrush, but is considered to have less variety and power of execution. He Hark! what hollow cry was that? It was that of the owl which has a nest in the old grey tower, and if you scramble through the wilderness of large grey twisted thorns, low-spreading mossy maples, yews, and crabs, and thread your way through the blocks of old masonry which have fallen, you may discover its place of abode. There you may see the four or five oval white eggs, or the young ones which have issued from them, co vered with a thick white down, which protects them most efficiently from the cold. Or, if you watch at sunset, you may perhaps see the old birds issue from the nest in quest of food, as they are flapping gently along the lanes, hedgerows, orchards, or near out-buildings. In some parts, if we stand on an eminence, we may observe them beat the fields over, like a setting-dog, and often drop down in the grass or corn. Their food consists of young rats, mice, shrews, small birds, and insects, and they have even been seen to catch fish. The barn-owl screeches, but does not generally hoot; and in the solitude of strange sounds. To some her cry is melancholy, and a kind of dread of the prediction of evil is entertained by many ignorant and superstitious minds; so that if one of the larger species happens to cry beside the cottage door, not a few would anticipate the death of the owner, by a slow consumptive disease, or that the favourite "bairn" would be laid under the cold sod. Many are those, however, who love to hear her voice-it brings serious thoughts into the mind, which may be productive of much good. One of the amusements of the people of the world, at this season, is coursinga practice of great antiquity. The intelgence evinced by the hare is not usually considered as great, but much sagacity is displayed when she flees, and secretes herself from her numerous enemies. Fearful as she naturally is, kindness has induced many hares to display much boldness, and they have become entirely domesticated. A French naturalist states that he had one living in his house, having lost all fear of its inmates, displaying it only when strangers appeared. In winter it sat before the fire, on the best terms, with two large Angora cats and a sporting dog. Cowper's favourites are well known. He says: "One shelter'd hare Has never heard the sanguinary yell For I have gained thy confidence, have pledged Spiders now emerge from the holes in which they have taken shelter; ants begin to show themselves from their subterranean caverns; the burying, or sexton-beetle, will be found embedded in the dead bodies of small animals; the smaller stag-beetle may be seen in rotten trees; while the orange underwing and the March moth have left their crysalides, and are flitting from spot to spot. Such are some of those scenes which are presented to our contemplation at this most interesting season. But in our consideration of these objects, let us not forget the First Great Cause of all; "Nature is but a name for an effect, for her residence, she loves to utter her On every hand are the evidences of his |