young when hatched,-a process which was first observed by Ray and Willoughby, but which has since been frequently ascertained. In the present instance, this peculiarity was not seen; but the little architect was detected in closing up the entrance, which was formed of a layer of clay more than double the thickness of the interior lining. In November following, we hewed away the brick around this nest, and found the whole excavation was rather less than an inch in depth. Notwithstanding all the precautions of the careful parent to conceal her nest, it was found out by one of the cuckoo flies (Tachina larvarum?)-probably a common species very similar to the house-fly, but rather Cuckoo-Fly-(Tachina larvarum ?)-Natural size. larger, which deposited an egg there; and the grub hatched from it, after devouring one of the wasp-grubs, formed itself a cocoon (a,) as did the other undevoured Mason-Wasp's Nest and Cocoons.-About one-third the natural-size. grub of the wasp (b.) Both awaited the return of summer to change into winged insects, burst their cerements, and proceed as their parents did. THE AMERICAN SNOW-BIRD. The Snow-bird of America is remarked among ornithologists for the obscurity which hangs round its history. On the first approach of winter, it suddenly makes its appearance at the farm-houses, apparently driven by the inclemency of the weather to court the VOL. II. 27 society of man. Whence it comes no one can tell, and whither it goes, (for its exit is as sudden as its entrance,) no one has yet been able to discover. It is supposed by some to be, in reality, another bird, only that its plumage, by some mysterious and irresistible power, has been suddenly and entirely changed. It delights to hover near hay-ricks, feeding on the wheat which they contain; while, in very bleak weather, when the ground is clad in universal snow, and the air is piercingly cold, it may be easily attracted to the parlor window, by throwing forth a few crumbs-the desolation of its lot causing it to forget its natural fear of man. There is a feeling of melancholy passes across the mind, when the bleak and dreary landscape, deserted by all other tenants of the air, is only enlivened with the presence of the mournful Snow-bird. Yet, even in the bitterest weather, he is always gay and lively; and the desolation of the scenery around him seems to have no saddening effect upon his cheerful heart. From distant climes which none can tell, In dress of bright and changeful hue, I greet the bird beloved so well, When childhood's hours around me flew. Sure, though the northern storms may spend Their blasts are welcome, if they send I care not that the laughing spring If winter be but sure to bring The Snow-bird I have always known. How oft in childhood's rainbow nours. Oh! how my youthful eyes would strain, Yes, gentle bird! I mind the time Thou'st sported round my window-seat, (Thoughtless of evil, as of crime,) Pleased, it would seem, my face to greet,- And feeding with confiding stay, On tiny crumbs I threw to thee:- A bird that ne'er had injured me. Let winter come with stormy voice; Let snow-wreathes crown the highest hill; He sees, protects, and feeds thee still. INTERESTING AND USEFUL EXTRACTS. There is nothing to which we are subject in this life, that presents a more formidable aspect than death. It is the boundary of all human prospects, and the end of every earthly enjoyment-it is justly styled the king of terrors! Its victorious sceptre has humbled the glory of successive empires and the pride of kings. It enters alike the palace of the greatest earthly prince, and the most secluded cave of the solitary hermit. Men have succeeded in fortifying themselves against implacable enemies, but the strongest bulwarks and the most solid towers, afford no shelter from the ruthless arrows of death. No stratagem however deeply laid, can avert or retard for a single moment, its triumphant progress. Faithful in its work, this messenger of the grave leaps the highest walls, and the most inaccessible rocks, in pursuit of the victims of its rage-the subjects of the Almighty's firm decree, "dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." The blood of every living thing, for nearly six thousand years, hath not been sufficient to quench the thirst of the devouring monster-its insatiable hunger never cries it is enough. Inexorable in its demands, it regards not the tears of affection nor the entreaties of friends, but plucks from the mother's arms the darling of her hopes, and delights in trampling upon the beauties of innocence and youth. We weep! but it mocks our lamentations, and laughs at our grief. We go to yonder house, and behold the trophies of its sway before us, cold as a marble statue, and silent, lies one whose voice we have often heard. We see the winding sheet-the hearse-the solemn train—the narrow pit. We hear! the funeral knell-the sobs of mourning friends-the rumbling earth-and from the midst, a voice, a voice! fearful! and filling us with apprehension!-familiar, yet often disregarded. From it we learn that we ere long must die, and be seen no more for ever! But why are apprehensions cherished at the near approach of death? Is it the agonies of nature's last struggle! Is it the dark silence of the grave that fills us with forebodings so fearful? No! It is not these alone that gives to death its dreadful aspect. It is the conscious thought that it opens to us the untried realities of another world. It is the reflection, that with all our sins and follies, we must pass a solemn test at the judgment bar of God! ANECDOTE OF WASHINGTON. The surprise and capture of the Hessian troops at Trenton, is a well remembered event in our revolutionary history. It occurred at the darkest period of the struggle, and it was in the hour when the hopes of the most sanguine had almost failed, that God so signally interposed to save our land. On that eventful morning, Colonel Biddle, of Philadelphia, rode by the side of Washington, and it is from his oft-repeated relation of the circumstances of that contest that we have derived our knowledge of the following interesting fact. The American troops crossed the Delaware about nine miles above Trenton, and marched in two divisions upon the town. This unexpected approach and vigorous attack of foes, supposed to be dispirited and defeated, was completely successful; and although the floating ice in the river had delayed the crossing, and it was 8 o'clock when Washington entered the village, the victory was gained with an ease altogether unexpected. In a few minutes all the outguards were driven in, and the American forces having surrounded the town, resistance became fruitless, and the enemy surrendered. When this event was communicated to Washington, he was pressing forward, and animating his troops by his voice and example. Instantly checking his horse, and throwing the reins upon his neck, the venerable man raised his hands and eyes to heaven, and thus silently and emphatically acknowledged whence the victory had come, and what aid he had implored to guard his beloved country in the perilous conflict. It was not until the lapse of about a minute, that he paused from his devout thankfulness, and ordered the troops to stand to their arms. Lætitia per Mortem. This curious and authentic relic is thus explained:The cross in the corner, towards which Pegasus flies, intimates that Christians should always follow wherever it leads. The wings show that our flight should be upwards-continually advancing towards heaven. Over the cross is a full-blown rose, the original seal of Martin Luther, and upon that another cross, signifying that since the gospel has been opened and publicly preached, we see in it nothing but Christ and him crucified. We here leave this explanation, with the untranslated motto, as a paraphrastic exercise for the poetical talents of our intelligent readers. ORATORY. The great rule which the masters of rhetoric press much, can never be enough remembered, that to make a man speak well and pronounce with a right emphasis, he ought thoroughly to understand all that he says, be |