Now, April's varying month appears,
With sunny smiles and show'ry tears,
When pregnant nature gives their birth
To the first fruits of teeming earth,
And does the growing Spring prepare
To deck with charms the early year;
Then beckons eager May to come,
And shower around its fragrant bloom.

THE author of a late valuable publication has remarked, "that, when we consider that the many thousand tribes of vegetables are not only all formed from a few simple substances, but that they all enjoy the same sun, vegetate in the same medium, and are supplied with the same nutriment, we cannot but be struck with the rich economy of nature, and are almost induced to doubt the evidence of those senses with which the God of nature has furnished us."

It is, indeed, wonderful, that all orders of vegetables are produced from four or five natural substances, viz. caloric, light, water, air, and carbon. How admirable must the formation of those organs be, which, by their peculiar actions, shall produce such various modifications of these substances, so as to form the different colours, tints, odours, &c. of the vegetable kingdom. How surprising must be the progress of vegetation!

In this part of our work, we shall make a brief inquiry into that exquisite system of mutual adaptation which may often be traced in the concerns of vegetation; and thus accumulate incontestible "proofs of the unbounded comprehension of the Divine mind, which, in the work of creation, could foresee and appoint such important effects to result from the mere combination and changes of the most inodorous and insipid substances."

As there has been a medium proportion of easterly winds in the previous part of the winter, April is likely to be mild throughout, with gentle showers; thus affording to vegetables an abundant supply of water, which is so indispensably necessary to their existence.

The changes of an April day have also afforded to our poets an apt emblem by which to illustrate the vicissitudes of human life.

About the beginning of the month the swallow returns, and the nightingale sings; about the middle the bittern appears, the red-start returns, and the cuckoo sings; towards the end the black-cap sings.

During this month, the apricot hath its flowers in full bloom, and the buds of the apple and pear begin to open; indeed, the progress of vegetation is so general and rapid, that an attention to Nature herself will be far more interesting and satisfactory, than any description we can possibly give.

Miscellanea .

THE BITER BITTEN.

AN officer of the army being invited by a friend in Lincolnshire to shoot wild ducks, went out for many hours without meeting with a single shot. On their return homewards they called at an inn to take some refreshments, adjoining to which was a mill, and fine head of water, upon which a number of particularly fine ducks were sporting. It happened that the miller was at the inn where the officer and his friend stopped, to whom they observed how unlucky they had been in their sport, and one of them jocularly said he would give five shillings for a shot at the ducks in the pond. That,' said the miller, you should not have for five guineas, as I particularly value the ducks; they are a very rare breed.'

Presently the officer left the room to order his gig to be prepared, and the miller soon after observed that it was too bad of the officer to talk of shooting the ducks. I wish,' said he, I could play him a trick for it; suppose we were to draw the charge from his gun, and then offer him a shot for the five shillings.' Accordingly the charge was drawn, for the remaining gentleman was well aware how his friend's gun was loaded, and the trap the miller was laying for himself.

On the return of the officer, the miller with great cheerfulness told him he would accept his offer.

'Agreed,' was the reply; to have all I kill or wound.' 'Yes.'

I am

'Wounded as well as killed?' 'Yes, yes-shoot away-but stop -you shall have a good chance for your money. There, Jack,' said the miller to one of the men, 'give the ducks a handful of corn, and get them all into that corner.'

The signal was given-off went

the gun-when, who shall describe the madness of the miller, the noise of the poor wounded ducks, and the laughter of the by-standers, who had had the matter explained to them; for, terrible to relate, fourteen ducks were either killed or wounded, in consequence of the small space they were drawn into by the miller's orders.

It so happened, that, on setting out in the morning, the officer loaded his gun in the usual way, but in consequence of his friend remarking that he had not charge sufficient to shoot at wild ducks, who were not to be approached near, he added a second charge, being the one which the miller drew. In spite of the exasperated miller, the ducks were put into the gig, and away drove the sportsmen, laughing very heartily

at their adventure.

THE DEVIL CALUMNIATED.

A few years back were seated in a stage-coach a clergyman, a lawyer, and a respectable looking elderly person. The lawyer, wishing to quiz the clergyman, began to descant pretty freely on the admission of such ill-qualified persons into the church.

"As a proof," says he, "what pretty parsons we have, I once heard one read, instead of And Aaron made an atonement for the sins of the people,' And Aaron made an ointment for the shins of the people."" "Incredible!" exclaimed the clergyman. "Oh," replied the lawyer, "I dare say this gentleman will be able to inform us of something similar." "That I can," said the old gentleman, while the face of the lawyer brightened in triumph, for I was once present in a country church, where the clergyman, instead of 'The Devil was a liar from the beginning,' actually read, 'The Devil was a lawyer from the beginning.'

ON A LITTLE GIRL.

That beautiful and starry brow,"
With youth and joy all splendent now-
Can it be marred by years.?
That passionless and stainless breast,
Where innocence hath raised her nest-

That glowing cheek and sun-bright eye
Must it be racked by fears?
Whence laughter wings its archery-

Will it be stained with tears?
Such is, alas! the bitter doom
That waits each tenant of the tomb;-
And how canst thou, young bud of beauty,
be,.

Excluded from the pale of destiny.

But years will pass, nor leave behind!
One stain upon thy seraph mind-

Then, come, thou fearful age!
And fears that rack thy breast may prove
The token sure of passionate love—

Such is love's heritage!

And tears from pity's fount will flow,
And on the cheek full sunny glow,

Of joy the fond presage!.
Thy days shall onward wing their way,
Like the month of fragrance-breathing
May!

Or should Grief come thy beauties to enshroud,

It shall pass o'er thee like an April cloud.

FASHION,

The eldest sister, it is said, of Folly; And, true it is, they're seldom seen asunder.

OF

IN

THE world has ever considered with the highest veneration, those who have devoted themselves to death for the glory, or safety, of their country and friends.

Regulus, Leonidas, the six burghers of Calais, with other great examples which occur in history, have in all ages been admired, as displaying the greatest nobleness of soul; whilst many particulars of their history have been esteemed fabulous by critics, as beyond the powers of human resolution; and yet, in the history of those people, whom we call savages, and whom we are too apt indiscriminately to treat with contempt, and consider as incapable of any sentiment above the level of the animal creation; in these we frequently find

No. 103.-N. S.

instances of greatness of mind which would do honour to the heroism and patriotism of the greatest and most polished nations.

Perhaps the following interesting anecdote cannot be paralleled in ancient or modern history; it happened about fifty years ago in the neighbourhood of New Orleans, and may be considered as authentic, being communicated by M. Bossu, an officer of distinction, who then enjoyed a considerable command in that country.

"The tragical death of an Indian of the Collapissa nation, (says this gentleman) who sacrificed himself for his country and son, I have often admired, as displaying the greatest heroism, and placing human nature in the noblest point of view.

A Chactaw Indian having one day expressed himself in the most reproachful terms of the French, and called the Collapissas their dogs and their slaves, one of this nation, exasperated at his injurious expressions, laid him dead on the spot.The Chactaws, the most numerous and the most warlike tribe on that continent, immediately flew to arms; they sent deputies to New Orleans to demand from the French Governor the head of the savage, who had fled to him for protection; the governor offered presents as an atonement, but they were rejected with disdain; they threatened to exterminate the whole tribe of the Collapissas.

To pacify this fierce nation, and prevent the effusion of blood, it was at length found necessary to deliver up the unhappy Indian. The Sieur Ferrand, commander of the German posts, on the right of the Mississippi, was charged with this melancholy commission; a rendezvous was in consequence appointed between the settlements of the Collapissas and the German posts, where the mournful- ceremony was conducted in the following manner:

The Indian victim, whose name was Tichou Mingo, (i. e. servant to the cacique, or prince) was produced. He rose up, and agreeable to the custom of these people, harangued the assembly to the following purpose: 'I am a true man; that is to say, I fear not death; but I lament the fate of my wife and four infant children, whom I leave behind in a very tender age; I lament, too, my father and mother, whom I have long maintained by hunting; them, however, I recommend to the French; since, on their account, I now fall a sacrifice.'

Scarce had he finished this short and pathetic harangue, when the old father struck with the filial affection of the son, arose, and thus

addressed himself to the audience : My son is doomed to death; but he is young and vigorous, and more capable than me to support his mother, his wife, and four infant children; it is necessary then that he remain upon earth to protect and provide for them; as for me, who draw towards the end of my career, I have lived long enough-may my son attain to my age, that he may bring up his tender infants; I am no longer good for any thing; a few years more or less, are to me of small moment; I have lived as a man-I will die as a man; I therefore take the place of my son.'

At these words, which expressed his paternal love and greatness of soul in the most touching manner, his wife, his daughter-in-law, and the little infants, melted into tears around this brave, this generous old man; he embraced them for the last time, exhorted them to be ever faithful to the French, and to die rather than betray them by any mean treachery unworthy of his blood. My death (concluded he) I consider as necessary for the safety of my nation, and I glory in the sacrifice.'

·

Having thus delivered himself, he presented his head to the kinsman of the deceased Chactaw; they accepted it; (for the Indian nations follow the law of retaliation; death they consider as an atonement for death--and it is sufficient that it be of the same nation, although even he should not be a kinsman-they except none but slaves): he then extended himself over the trunk of a tree, when, with a hatchet, they severed his head from his body.

By this sacrifice, all animosities were forgotten; but one part of the ceremony remained still to be performed the young Indian was obliged to deliver to the Chactaws the head of his father in taking it up he addressed to it these few