BOOKS ON NATURAL HISTORY.

241

liquid lustre, out o' whase bosom the happy thochts flee awa to ither regions o' delicht, like bees obeyin their instincks, that lead them, without chart or compass, to every nook in the wilderness where blaws a family o' heather-bells.

North. I know you have the Journal of a Naturalist, published by Mr Murray-a delightful volume-perhaps the most so-nor less instructive than delightful-given to natural history since White's Selborne.1

Shepherd. You gied me't, and I never lend byucks you gied me-for to lend a byuck is to lose it—and borrowin's but a hypocritical pretence for stealin, and should be punished wi' death

Tickler. Without benefit of clergy.

Shepherd. True, indeed, sir; a clergyman could be o' nae benefit to sic an unjustified sinner.

North. But there is another work, James, called The British Naturalist, published by Whittaker, Treacher, and Arnott, Ave-Maria Lane, which I must send out to you by the carrier

Shepherd. What for no gie't to me the noo, and I'll put it in my pouch?

North. 'Tis not in the Snuggery. Indeed, at present, both volumes are with Mrs Gentle. The author is not only well versed in natural science, but he is a close observer of nature. He has a keen eye and a fine ear, and writes, not only with perspicuity, but, like almost all good naturalists, with eloquence. He views his subjects in those masses in which we find them grouped in nature; and the plant or the animal has been taken in conjunction with the scenery, and the general and particular use-and when that arose easily, the lesson of morality or natural religion.

Shepherd. A plan, I jalouse, at ance natural and feelosofical. North. The woodcuts of the various animals and insects are designed and executed by Mr W. N. Brooke-and those of the lake and the brook by Mr Bonner, from drawings by Harry Wilson, Esq., who, by the way, has recently published some interesting Views of Foreign Cities.

Shepherd. What mean ye, sir, by the Lake and the Brook? North. Why, the first volume of The British Naturalist con1 The Rev. Gilbert White, author of the Natural History of Selborne, was born in 1720, and died in 1793.

VOL. III.

242

BOOKS ON NATURAL HISTORY.

sists of parts, entitled the Mountain, the Lake, the River, the Sea. the Moor, and the Brook.

Shepherd. Be sure to remember no to forget to keep it in your mind, sir, to attend to drappin a hint to Mrs Gentle, that ye hae promised to send out the twa volumms o' The British Naturalist to Altrive-and should they only be in boards, you had as weel get them bun', plainly but strongly, for wee Jamie's mad about a' crawlin, creepin, soomin, and fleein things, and I think o' gettin him made an Honorary Member o' the Wernerian Society.

North. I will send you out, at the same time, my dear James, Menageries, written, I am told, by my most amiable and ingenious philosophic friend, Charles Knight, Editor (?) of the Library of Entertaining Knowledge. The "Tower Menagerie," containing the natural history of the animals contained in that establishment, with anecdotes of their character and history

Shepherd. That wull be a feast to my darling.

North. -illustrated by portraits, taken from life, by that admirable artist, William Harvey, and engraved on wood by Branston and Wright, who stand in the first rank of their profession.

Shepherd. He'll wear his dear een out-God bless him-on the lions, teegers, and leopards-for though a lamb in gentleness o' disposition, the fiercer the animal, the deeper drauchts o' delight drinks his imagination frae the rings o' their een, and the spats on their hide, sae wildlike wi' the speerit o' the sandy deserts, yet mair beautifu' than ony tame creturs that walk peaceably aroun' the dwellins o' men.

North. The literary department has been superintended by E. T. Bennet, Esq., F.L.S., an active member of the Zoological Society—and much valuable assistance afforded by N. A. Vigors, the Secretary

Shepherd. Erudite, I dout not, on a' manner o' monsters

North. Zoologists, James, of the first order. To the same gentlemen we owe a similar work, equally beautiful-The Gardens and Menagerie of the Zoological Society, Vol. I., "Quadrupeds "

Shepherd. Pit it intil the parshel. But dinna tak the trouble o' payin the carriage-for I'll no grudge it, nor a couple o' caulkers to the carrier, wha's a steady man, and never sleeps in his cart, nor, when she's heavily laden, even up-hill, loups

QUAKER POETS.-THE HOWITTS.

243

on to ease himsel on the tram-a dangerous practice, that has made many an honest woman a widow, and many weans orphans.

North. Your head, my dear James, is now touching Howitt's Book of the Seasons. Prig and pocket it. "Tis a jewel.

2

For I

Thae

[The SHEPHERD seizes it from the shelf, and acts as per order. Shepherd. Is Nottingham far intil England, sir? would really like to pay the Hooitts a visit this simmer. Quakers are, what ane micht scarcely opine frae first principles, a maist poetical Christian seck. There was Scott o' Amwell,1 wha wrote some simplish things in a preservin speerit o' earnestness; there is Wilkinson, yonner, wha wons on a beautifu' banked river, no far aff Peerith (is't the Eamont, think ye?) the owther o' no a few pomes3 delichtfu' in their domesticity-auld bachelor though he be-nae warld-sick hermit, but an enlichtened labourer o' love, baith in the kitchen and flower garden o' natur;-lang by letter has me and Bernard Barton* been acquent, and verily he is ane o' the mildest and modestest o' the Muses' sons, nor wanting a thochtfu' genie, that aften gies birth to verses that treasure themselves in folk's hearts;-the best scholar amang a' the Quakers is Friend Wiffen, a capital translator, Sir Walter tells me, o' poets wi' foreign tongues, sic as Tawso, and wi' an original vein too, sir, which has produced, as I opine, some verra pure ore; and feenally, the Hooitts, the three Hooitts,—na, there may be mair o' them for aught I ken, but I'se answer for William and Mary, husband and wife, and oh! but they're weel met; and eke for Richard, (can he be their brither ?) and wha's this was tellin me about anither brither o' Wullie's, a Dr Godfrey Hooitt, ane o' the best botanists in a' England, and a desperate beetle-hunter?

sir.

North. Entomologist, James. A man of science.

Shepherd. The twa married Hooitts I love just excessively,

What they write canna fail o' bein' poetry, even the maist

1 Scott of Amwell, the author of Amwell and other poems; born in 1739, died in 1783.

2 Wordsworth has sung the praises of this gentleman's spade, in the verses beginning, "Spade! with which Wilkinson hath tilled his lands."

3 Pomes-poems.

4 Bernard Barton, a friend of Charles Lamb; born 1784, died 1849.

5 J. H. Wiffen; born 1792, died 1836.

6 Since this was written, Mr and Mrs Howitt have adorned our literature with many agreeable contributions.

244

HOWITT'S BOOK OF THE SEASONS.

middlin o't, for it's aye wi' them the ebullition o' their ain feeling, and their ain fancy, and whenever that's the case, a bonny word or twa will drap itsel intil ilka stanzy, and a sweet stanzy or twa intil ilka pome, and sae they touch, and sae they sune win a body's heart; and frae readin their byuckies ane wushes to ken theirsels, and indeed do ken theirsels, for their personal characters are revealed in their volumms, and methinks I see Wully and Mary

North. Strolling quietly at eve or morn by the silver Trent

Shepherd. No sae silver, sir, surely, as the Tweed?

North. One of the sincerest streams in all England, James. Shepherd. Sincere as an English sowl that caresna wha looks intil't, and flows bauldly alang whether reflectin cluds or sunshine.

North. Richard, too, has a true poetical feeling, and no small poetical power. His unpretending volume of verses well deserves a place in the library along with those of his enlightened relatives-for he loves nature truly as they do, and nature has returned his affection.

Shepherd. But what's this Byuck o' the Seasons?

North. In it the Howitts have wished to present us with all their poetic and picturesque features- -a Calendar of Nature, comprehensive and complete in itself-which, on being taken up by the lover of nature at the opening of each month, should lay before him in prospect all the objects and appearances which the month would present, in the garden, in the field, and the waters—yet confining itself solely to those objects. Such, in their own words, is said to be their aim.

Shepherd. And nae insignificant aim either, sir. Hae they hit it?

North. They have. The scenery they describe is the scenery they have seen.

Shepherd. That circling Nottingham.

North. Just so, James. Their pictures are all English. Shepherd. They show their sense in stickin to their native land-for unless the heart has brooded, and the een brooded too, on a' the aspecks o' the outer warld till the edge o' ilka familiar leaf recalls the name o' the flower, shrub, or tree frae which it has been blawn by the wund, or drapped in the

cawm, the poet's haun 'ill waver, and his picture be but a haze. In a' our warks, baith great an' sma', let us be national; an' thus the true speerit o' ae kintra 'ill be breathed intil anither, an' the haill warld encompassed an' pervaded wi' poetry and love.

North. As a proof, James, of their devotedness to merry England

Shepherd. No a whit less merry that it contains a gude mony Quakers.

North.

-our Friends have described the year, without once alluding-as far as I have observed-to the existence of Thomson.

Shepherd. Na-that is queer an' comical aneuch ;-nor can I just a'thegither appruve o' that forgetfulness, ignorance, or omission.

North. It shows their sincerity. They quote, indeed, scarcely any poetry but Wordsworth's-for in it, above all other, their quiet, and contemplative, and meditative spirits seem to repose in delight.

Shepherd. I canna understaun' why it should be sae, but wi' the exception o' yoursel, sir, I never kent man or woman wha loved and admired Wordsworth up to the pitch, or near till't, o'idolatrous worship, wha seemed to care a doit for ony ither poet, leevin or dead. "He's a sectawrian, you see, sir, in the religion o' natur

North. Her High Priest.

Shepherd. Weel-weel--sir; e'en be't sae. But is that ony reason why a' ither priests should be despised or disregarded, when tryin in a religious speerit to expound or illustrate the same byuck-the byuck o' natur which God has given us, wi' the haly leaves lyin open, sae that he wha rins may read, though it's only them that walks slowly, or sits down aneath the shadow o' a rock or a tree, that can understaun' sufficient to privilege them to breathe forth their knowledge an' their feelings in poetry, which is aye as a prayer or a thanksgiving?

North. The Book of the Seasons is a delightful book and I recommend it to all lovers of nature.

(Enter the Household on their stocking-soles, and remove the relics of the Feast of Shells.)

Shepherd. Noo, we may wauken Tickler. He whuspered.