and generally lays four or five eggs, of an ash-green colour, which she hatches in twenty-five days. The Bitterns defend their young with such courage that even the hawk will seldom venture to attack the nest.

When wounded by the sportsman, this bird often makes a severe resistance. It does not retire; but waits the onset, and gives such vigorous pushes with its bill as to wound the leg through the boot. Sometimes it turns on its back, like the rapacious birds, and fights with both its bill and claws. When surprised by a dog, it is said always to throw itself into this posture, and defend itself so vigorously, as to compel its assailant to retire. The eyes of its antagonist are the object at which it chiefly strikes. It does not fly from birds of prey, but erects its sharp beak, and receives the shock on the point, by which it compels its enemy to retreat, and sometimes with a fatal wound. Its flesh has much the flavour of a hare, and is held in esteem at modern tables, as it was in those of ancient times.

THE GENIUS OF SPRING.

"To cause the bud of the tender herb to spring forth."

THE nursling Spring-like a dancing child,
With smiles on her opening lip so mild-
Comes deck'd with garlands of budding flowers,
Leading the glowing, golden hours.

Her tasseled vest, all gemmed with dew,
While promise breathes in her eye of blue;

And she gathers many a rich bouquet

From the budding boughs of the flowering tree,
And gaily flings, in her sunny mirth,

O'er these vernal children of the earth

Fertile wreaths of the regal rose,

And "blossom showers," like the cistus snows.
Her growing charms rich hues assume,

When Summer unfolds her deep perfume,

And the glorious sun can no shadow trace
On the cloudless light of her rosy face;
But violet-tufts, where her smiles have been,
Spangle the copses and meadows green-
Where sylvan streams come rippling by,
And groves are mirthful with melody;
And the carol of birds, in "choral swell,"
Ring jocundly in the sylvan dell.

All ye that hear the glad "voice of Spring,"
And think what stores her beauties bring,
And hope that her bloom fulfilled may be,
O swell the anthem, and bend the knee-
Let meek Devotion bend the head,
And thank the Lord for your daily bread.

MISS AIRD.

THE SPRING JOURNEY.

O GREEN was the corn as I rode on my way,
And bright were the dews on the blossoms of May,
And dark was the sycamore's shade to behold,
And the oak's tender leaf was of emerald and gold.

The thrush from his holly, the lark from his cloud,
Their chorus of rapture sung jovial and loud;
From the soft vernal sky to the soft grassy ground
There was beauty above me, beneath, and around.

The mild southern breeze brought a shower from the hill,

And yet, though it left me all dripping and chill,
I felt a new pleasure, as onward I sped,

To gaze where the rainbow gleam'd broad over head.

O such be life's journey, and such be our skill,
To lose in its blessings the sense of its ill;
Through sunshine and shower, may our progress be

even,

And our tears add a charm to the prospect of Heaven! HEBER.

YOUNG BUNYAN,

AND THE "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."

66

We have said that we expect some of our young friends have heard of "Robinson Crusoe," but we hope more of them have heard of the Pilgrim's Progress"-two, certainly, of the most interesting books ever written in any age or country. If our readers should ask which is the best, we say at once that "Pilgrim's Progress" is the best-by far the best; for whilst "Robinson" may do harm in exciting a roving disposition in the young and inexperienced to visit distant regions of the earth, "Pilgrim" will direct them in their way through the dangers of this life to the celestial city above, where scenes far more bright and beautiful than any this world can present 66 Shall bless our wondering eyes."

"Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress" is truly a wonderful book. If a young reader feels an intense interest in the dangers and adventures of the shipwrecked mariner, we think he will feel an increased anxiety to follow the Pilgrim through all his progress. Indeed, let him only begin to read and he cannot leave off. From the City of Destruction, out of the Slough of Despond, and through the Wicket-gate, he will follow him to the curious house of the Interpreter, and on to the Cross; (but let him stay there a moment and ponder what that means,) from whence, lightened of his burden, he will climb with his companion the Hill of Difficulty, and enter with him, notwithstanding the lions, the palace Beautiful-sleep in the chamber of peace, whose window opened towards the sunrising, and wake at break of day and sing for joy. Descending the Valley of Humility he will hear the shepherd boy's song, and passing on, see the foul fiend Apollyon approaching, stand by during the conflict, tremble for poor Christian all the time it lasts, and rejoice