minded of the occasion on which our Divine Redeemer referred to this affectionate habit of the domestic fowl, in illustration of his tender and disinterested love to the inhabitants of a murderous and ungrateful city.* The most timid mothers brave dangers, and even death, for the sake of their young. An instance of this courage,—and similar facts must be familiar to many,—is recorded by Colonel Montague, when speaking of the goldcrested wren. "A pair of these birds, who took possession of a fir-tree in my garden, ceased their notes as soon as the young were hatched; and as this beautiful little family caused me much delight and amusement, some observations thereon may not be unacceptable to the curious reader. When first I discovered the nest, I thought it a favorable opportunity to become acquainted with some of the manners of this minute species, and to endeavor to discover whether the male ever sung, by way of instructing the young ones. Accordingly I took the nest, when the young were about six days old, placed it in a small basket, and by degrees enticed the old ones to my study window; and after they became familiar with that situation, the basket was placed within the window, then at the opposite side of the room. It is remarkable that, although the female seemed regardless of danger, from her affection to her young, the male never once ventured within the room; and yet would constantly feed them * The writer remembers having once watched, with much interest, the proceedings of a barn-door hen, which, in the exercise of her maternal affection, labored long, but ineffectually, to convey her brood across a shallow stream, on the opposite border of which she had discovered a treasure for their use. The timid chickens durst not enter the water: but, at last, the mother contrived to make them mount upon her back, and so to carry them over. This is an additional illustration of some remarks made in the first volume of this work. (See Winter, pages 165, 213.) To the same class of facts may be referred the following, which occurred many years ago, at a farm-house in Galloway. The family were one evening alarmed by loud screams, accompanied by the flapping of wings, and, it is added, a knocking at the door, when, on going to ascertain the cause, a gander was discovered in a state of the utmost agitation. The creature led the way to the goose-house, evidently inviting the servants to follow. On entering, a polecat rushed out, and on a nest, with young goslings below her, lay a slaughtered goose, which had evidently refused to seek her own safety by sacrificing her young. while they remained at the outside of the window: on the contrary, the female would feed them at the table at which I sat, and even when I held the nest in my hand, provided I remained motionless. But on moving my head one day while she was on the edge of the nest, which I held in my hand, she made a precipitate retreat, mistook the open part of the window, knocked herself against the glass, and lay breathless on the floor for some time. It is probable the focal distance of such minute animals' eyes is very near, and that large objects are not represented perfect on the retina; that they do not seem to see such distinctly is certain, unless in motion. ever, recovering a little, she made her escape, and in about an hour after, I was agreeably surprised by her return; and she would afterwards frequently feed the young, while I held the nest in my hand. The male bird con How stantly attended the female in her flight to and fro, but never ventured beyond the window-frame; nor did he latterly ever appear with food in his bill.” Even the earwig and the spider, which some regard as odious creatures, are inspired by the great Governor of all with this amiable disposition in a remarkable degree. The wolf-spider carries her eggs in a bag attached to the hinder part of her body, and guards this treasure with jealous care. "With a view," says Bonnet, "to put this singular attachment to a novel test, I one day threw a spider with her eggs into the pitfall of an ant-lion, (Myrmelion formicarium.) The spider endeavored to escape, and was eagerly remounting the side of the pit, when I again tumbled her to the bottom, and the ant-lion, more nimble than the first time, seized the bag of eggs with its mandibles, and attempted to drag it under the sand. The spider, on the other hand, made the most strenuous efforts to keep her hold, and struggled hard to defeat the aim of the concealed depredator; but the gum which fastened her bag, not being calculated to withstand such violence, at length gave way, and the ant-lion was about to carry off the prize in triumph. The spider, however, instantly regained it with her mandibles, and redoubled her endeavors to snatch the bag from her enemy; but her efforts were vain, for the ant-lion, being the stronger, succeeded in dragging it under the sand. The unfortunate mother, now robbed of her eggs, might at least have saved her own life, as she could easily have escaped out of the pitfall; but, wonderful to tell, she chose rather to be buried alive along with her eggs. As the sand concealed from my view what was passing below, I laid hold of the spider, leaving the bag in the power of the ant-lion. But the affectionate mother, deprived of her bag, would not quit the spot where she had lost them, though I repeatedly pushed her with a twig. Life itself seemed to have become a burden to her, since all her hopes and pleasures for ever. were gone Even among the inferior animals, the substitution of nurses different from the parents is not uncommon; and, in such cases, the law continues in force, which elicits, in the guardian, a love for the protégés, akin to parental affection. This is well exemplified in the attendance which the foster-mother of the cuckoo so assiduously bestows on her overgrown charge, and may be seen in every farm-yard, where ducklings have been hatched under a hen. The unwearied care with which the larvæ of bees, wasps, and ants, are tended by their nurses, has called forth the admiration of all who have minutely observed the domestic economy of these curious insects. Man may well learn wisdom by considering the ways of creatures which are destitute of reason; for they are guided by a wisdom infinitely superior to his. They are irresistibly impelled, by an invisible power, to adopt means for promoting the best interests of their young. Man, too, is inclined, by the same power, to love his children; but he * Bonnet, Ouvres, vol. ii. p. 435. The writer can vouch for the following fact:-A barn-door fowl having been deprived, by some accident, of all her brood but one, resigned the survivor to the care of the cock, while she reconstructed her nest, and resumed the operation of replenishing it with eggs. The cock entered into this arrangement with the utmost cordiality, and discharged his duties as a father, with much zeal and love, courageously repelling every enemy, searching out barley-corns with the utmost diligence, giving the usual notice to his little follower, and feeding it with the characteristic generosity of his fraternity. has sinful propensities within, which often lead that love into a ruinous direction. "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter." God is the Parent of all; and he uses natural affection to make his substitutes-earthly parents of various species-faithful to their trust. 66 They are but the wheels and instruments," says Burmeister, "in a higher Hand, imperceptible to us, and still more so to them, which holds the universe, and to which science must always refer, but which is depicted to the fancy in a beautiful and attractive image. What Johan Von Muller has expressed to be the result of his researches into the history of the human race, we may apply to the life of bees, to the ac-. tions of the rest of the world of insects, and indeed to the great efforts of organic nature in general. The whole is an infinite machine, to whose eternal motion every individual, be it plant, animal, or man, must contribute; and he who, of all that can obey this law, is wantonly deaf,he is judged."'* T. T. D. FOURTH WEEK-SATURDAY. REPRODUCTION OF INSECTS.-THEIR EGGS. I HAVE already taken some notice of the eggs of insects, in reference to the qualities with which they are endowed for resisting the rigors of winter. It may now be proper to say a few words regarding their general properties and peculiarities, as well as the instincts belonging to the female, which secure their deposition in the most proper situations. It has been remarked by some naturalists, that the eggs of insects, which are of very various shapes and colors, have, at least in many instances, expansible shells, which enable them to increase in size, according to the progressive developement of the enclosed larva. The younger * Manual of Entomology, p. 531. Huber discovered this quality in the eggs of ants, and others have observed the same gradual enlargement, along with change of shape, in those of other insects. The design of the Creator in this expansible property, is sufficiently obvious, and there are some natural contrivances in certain eggs, the final cause of which we can also distinctly trace. The eggs of the ephemera, for example, are smooth and oblong, resembling caraway comfits, a form, which Swammerdam mentions, as admirably adapted for diffusing them through the water, where they are dropt by the mother insect. To prove this, he placed a few of them on the point of a knife, and letting them fall gently into the water, they immediately separated, of themselves, in a very curious manner. The same accurate observer describes a very remarkable appendage in the egg of the water scorpion. This egg is furnished with a coronet of seven bristles, disposed like down on the seed of the blessed-thistle. These bristles closely embrace the egg next to them in the ovary of the mother insect. As these eggs are deposited in the stems of aquatic plants, the bristles, which are partly left on the outside, are probably intended to prevent the aperture from being closed by the rapid growth of the plant. Reaumur gives an interesting description of similar eggs, deposited by a common dung fly. These eggs are furnished at the upper end with two diverging pegs, which prevent them from sinking into the dung, where they are placed by the parent, while they are permitted to enter sufficiently far to preserve them moist. Both circumstances are indispensable to their hatching; for when Reaumur took them out of the dung, they shrivelled up in a few hours, and when he immersed them further than the pegs, they were suffocated, and could not afterwards be hatched. A still more remarkable appendage belonging to some insects' eggs, is that of a footstalk, evidently intended to place them out of the reach of grubs, which might devour them. The eggs of the lace-winged fly are of this description. They consist of a small oval greenish-white head, similar to apple mould, with a white transparent |