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1840.

THE SATURDAY MAGAZINE.

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Ir the earlier months of the year have delighted us with their freshness and beauty, and have given to our ears and eyes a lovely profusion of melody and flowers, the present, in its more sober colouring and more subdued tones, induces a sense of quiet enjoyment and of grateful feeling, almost sufficient to atone for the loss of the brilliant spring. How can we look out on the scenery which August presents to us the rich fields of wavy corn, ripe for the sickle, the trees laden with various fruits, the plenteousness with which the year is crowned-without feeling our minds elevated towards the Giver of all good-whose "bounty unconfined" thus

Spreads a solemn feast for all that lives.

This month is at its commencement usually calm and hot. The full influence of the sun is poured forth on the productions of the earth, and they are rapidly advancing to maturity beneath his rays. According to the backwardness or forwardness of the season must necessarily commence the gathering in of the fruits of the earth; but this is especially the harvest month, and the busiest season of the year; and now do we usually witness the interesting scene of multitudes of persons engaged in the task of reapThis spectacle of ing and bringing home the corn. pleasing industry is chiefly to be enjoyed in an open and extended country, where the different employments of those that wield the sickle or load the wain Every fair day is diligently can be easily described. employed, all hands are at work, and a most laudable zeal is often shown by the labourers to make the most of the favourable opportunity, and secure the precious grain, ere it becomes over-ripe and falls from the ear, or ere the attacks of birds, or the fall of heavy rains, shall have diminished its quantity or lessened its value. To this unwearied labour the reaper is likeThe increase wise stimulated by the hope of reward. of wages, which he receives at this period, is of high importance to him, as enabling him to discharge debts unavoidably contracted, or to add some article of necessity or of comfort to his little store, or to lay by something for his support in the time of sickness or old age. His wife and children perhaps are gleaning in an adjacent field, and by their persevering industry are still further increasing the supply. As much as a sack of corn is sometimes thus obtained, which affords many a comfortable meal to the household, with the pleasing reflection that to their own industry they owe this seasonable help. It is a custom with some villagers to present cakes, made of the first flour which is ground from this wheat, to the owner of the lands where they have been kindly permitted to glean. The custom of gleaning is of ancient date. We find provision made for the gleaners among the Jewish people by the following command"When ye reap the harvest of your land thou shalt not make clean riddance of the corners of thy field when thou reapest, neither shalt thou gather any gleanings of thy harvest; thou shalt leave them to the poor and to the stranger." An interesting picture

of a harvest-field is presented to us in the book of
Ruth, where the command above quoted seems to have
been the principle which guided the operations of the
field. A modern writer has the following sketch
of the varying scenes which enliven the country at
our reaping-time:-

The sun-burnt reapers, entering the field leisurely at
early morning with their reaphooks resting on their right
shoulders, and their beer-kegs swinging to their left hands,
while they pause for a while to look about them before they
begin their work.-The same, when they are scattered over
the field: some stooping to the ground over the prostrate
corn, others lifting up the heavy sheaves and supporting
them against one another, while the rest are plying their busy
luctantly, like a half-defeated army.-Again, the same
sickles, before which the brave crop seems to retreat re-
collected into one group and resting to refresh themselves,
while the lightening keg passes from one to another silently,
and the rude clasp-knife lifts the coarse meal to the ruddy
lips.-Lastly, the piled-up wain, moving along heavily
among the lessening sheaves, and swaying from side to
side as it moves: while a few, whose share of the work is
watch the completion of the day's labours.
already done, lie about here and there in the shade, and

There is often a delicious coolness in the evening
air during this month, conveying to the sense the
perfume of the remaining sweet-scented flowers, and
of the ripe fruits which are now abundant, and afford-
ing a welcome refreshment after the heat of the day.
Resting beneath the leafy canopy of some old tree,
we look around and observe the change which has
How
come over the face of nature since last month.
different the appearance of the trees and fields! The
former have neither the brightness of early spring,
nor the full uniform richness of summer, but a deep
dark hue which forms as it were the groundwork to
a lively embroidery composed of the new foliage of
midsummer. These bright, young shoots, gleaming
in the sunshine with all the freshness of spring, have a
very enlivening effect. The fields are partly deprived
of their rich produce; and the cleared barren patches
already speak of the decline of the year. Then there
are the withered, melancholy-looking bean crops, and
the dark-leaved turnips; both of which however are
very valuable to the farmer. In a short time, these, as
well as the field pease, will be gathered in, and then,
Barns are stored,
when all the different crops are secured, and

And groaning staddles bend beneath their load, comes the rural festival of harvest-home; a festival which has been observed in almost all ages and countries, and which among the Jews was a joyful season of gratitude and praise to the God of the harvest. to send us "rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, The remembrance of His goodness, who continues filling our hearts with food and gladness," is, unhappily, too little entertained in festivals of this description at the present day: on the contrary, the express commands of this gracious Being are often set at defiance, and drunkenness and revelry take the place of cheerfulness and gratitude.

In those parts of the country where the hop is Vast extensively cultivated, (Kent, Sussex, and Worcestershire,) a very lively scene is now going on. numbers of persons are engaged in picking hops during this month, great expedition being required in the work, when once the hops have arrived at maturity. Labourers are fetched in waggons from a con siderable distance to assist the inhabitants in the immediate neighbourhood of the place of cultivation; The hop is someand when the season is over, they are sent back to their homes in the same manner. times planted in gardens, for the purpose of covering verandahs, &c., and its rapid and ornamental growth makes it one of the prettiest coverings imaginable.

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The flowers of our gardens, towards the close of this month, are not the flowers of summer. The china-aster, the French and African marigold, and even the Michaelmas-daisy, begin to open their buds, so that we are surrounded by an autumn wreath before there has been any token in the state of the weather of summer's departure. Conspicuous above all stands the noble holyoak, which is now occasionally permitted to re-occupy a station in our gardens, from which, by some unaccountable caprice, it has long been banished. The cottage garden has been enlivened by it, and well do we remember the picturesque effect of its rich blossoms, contrasting with the white-washed wall and the low roof of a humble dwelling, which formed a remote, but distinct object in one of our favourite views. Often have our steps been arrested as we trod an avenue, formed on the one side by a sudden green slope and tall hedgerow, and on the other by trees of the willow and white poplar, whose leaves quivered to the cool breath of a streamlet wandering near;-often have we paused to admire the gradually narrowing lines of the path before us, the graceful bend at which it led to the village, whose vicinity was sufficiently indicated by the partial view of its embattled tower, and not unfrequently by

The music of the village bells, Falling at intervals upon the ear; and often has our eye rested with pleasure on the rose-coloured blossoms of the holyoak, in the cottage garden, just at the bend of the road. The reason for banishing this beautiful flower from more finished parterres may be, that its size and brilliancy are apt to eclipse the lesser beauties of the garden; but on this principle we might also banish the showy and fashionable dahlia, which is now the object of so much attention. If the holyoak is despised, the passion-flower, which blossoms in this month, is greatly esteemed and admired. Its curious and elegant structure is indeed well worthy our observation, and the plant, being a graceful creeper, is often permitted to stray across the windows or lattice-work of country dwellings. The number of garden flowers is, however, on the decline, and the hedges and lanes are losing many of their brightest ornaments. The beautiful family of ferns now begins to attract attention. The finely-divided winged leaves of some of the species atone for their inconspicuous flowers, and the regular arrangement of the seeds on the back of the leaves is very remarkable.

The fruit garden is now in its full beauty:

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Presents the downy peach, the shining plum,
The ruddy fragrant nectarine, and dark
Beneath his ample leaf, the luscious fig.

Most of these luxuries are now in their prime, just ready to be plucked, and not over-ripe and decaying. Several sorts of apple are now ripe, while the inferior

long-wing, suddenly disappears, thus affording the earliest indication of the departure of summer itself. Rooks too begin to return to their nest trees, and house-swallows and martens congregate together in flocks, as if consulting about their future flight. Young broods of goldfinches are still seen, and the clear voice of the robin is heard as usual in the quiet of the evening. Swarms of winged ants are occasionally observed, so that the whole air about us is speckled with these little emigrants. Glow-worms may also be observed in abundance during this month, acting as the planets of the rural scene. This insect will not bear inspection when its lustre is lost by the light of day, nor will the luminous insects of other countries excite any admiration as they are seen in the collections of the naturalist. The beauty consists in the phosphorescent light alone, and some of the foreign insects carry it in a sort of snout, which, when unilluminated is almost ugly in its appearance. Some of the later butterflies now come out, and flies and moths seem more than ever to abound. The goat-sucker, or fern-owl, utters its jarring note, and flies about oak-trees, after sunset, in pursuit of moths. That tormenting insect, the gad-fly, now irritates horses and cattle by its persevering attacks, and causes them to perform those strange freaks and curvetings which are often mistaken for the expressions of their pleasure.

The operations of the gardener during this month include, among other employments, the protection of wall-fruit by nets &c.; the removal or regulation of summer shoots in vine, peach, and nectarine-trees; the sowing for winter crops of spinach, cabbage, onions, lettuce, cauliflower; sowing seeds of bulbous plants in the flower-garden,-tulips, hyacinths, crownimperials; planting autumnal-flowering bulbs and herbaceous plants, and the removal of decaying flower-stalks, &c. Mignionette intended to flower in the winter should now be planted in pots, and frequently watered. As this is generally the driest month of the year, considerable labour is required to keep the garden well watered. The soil is dry and parched to a considerable depth; the paths cleave asunder; the vegetation on lawns and pastures becomes dried up, and everything testifies to the unmitigated strength of the sun's rays. Thrice happy he who can escape the noontide fervour amid the poetry of the woods and glades.

TO TRANQUILLITY.
Art thou reposing near thy native brooks,

Or in some haunt beloved, mid forest shades,
Or whispering poet's themes in favourite glades,
Thou of the peaceful mien! who in the nooks,
Which Nature calls her own, dost love to dwell;
To hear Eolian notes which zephyrs play
Upon their leafy harps; while Freedom's lay,
Or Love's soft melody, which young birds tell,
Echo, in half-notes on her mimic shell,

Repeats to thee; and many a distant flood
Joins in the concert, with its deep-voiced swell,
Inspiring peace, the mind's beatitude:

While happiness, to thee so truly dear,

The mien of sadness wears, but never knows a tear.

fruits, currants, gooseberries, &c., have long been Ir is an instinct in our nature to follow the tract pointed

ready.

The song of birds is very little heard during this month. The persevering lark indeed keeps up his music in the skies, but the great proportion of our singing-birds retire to the depth of woods and groves, and are comparatively silent. Before the middle of the month, without any apparent cause, and before we have had anything like an approach to cold weather, the largest of the swallow tribe, the swift, or

out by a few leaders; we are gregarious animals in a moral as well as a physical sense, and we are addicted to routine, because it is always easier to follow the opinions of others, than to reason and judge for themselves.-DR. PARIS.

LONDON:

JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, WEST STRAND. PUBLISHED IN WEEKLY NUMBERS, PRICE ONE PENNY, AND IN MONTHLY PARTS, PRICE SIXPENCE. Bold by all Booksellers and Newsvenders in the Kingdom.

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PROGRESSIVE CHANGES OF THE FROG, FROM THE SPAWN TO THE TADPOLE STATE.

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POOR being! wherefore dost thou fly?
Why seek to shun my gazing eye
And palpitate with fear?
Indulge a passing traveller's sight
And leap not on in vain affright,
No cruel foe is here.

I would but pause awhile to view
Thy dappled coat of many a hue,

Thy rapid bound survey;

And see how well thy limbs can glide
Along the sedge-crowned streamlet's side,
Then journey on my way.

THE FROG.

AFTER the descent of those warm showers which frequently refresh the earth in the month of July, a very singular phenomenon is often observed by those who pursue their way through meadows and VOL. XVII.

This re

Myriads of lanes soon after the rain has ceased. young frogs are to be seen leaping about in all directions; their appearance is so sudden and unexpected that it would almost seem that they had dropped from the clouds; while their very small size convinces the observer that they have but recently emerged from the tadpole state. markable sight has given rise to the common superstition that frogs do indeed fall in showers from the clouds; and we find the extravagant idea maintained by some theorists, who affirm that the action of a violent wind is sufficient to elevate the spawn of frogs and the eggs of snails to the regions of the air, whence the creature in its perfected state is again returned

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to the earth in the manner above mentioned. The impossibility of this, on account of the specific gravity of the eggs and spawn, is entirely overlooked by those who entertain the absurd opinion.

ent.

Frogs are placed by naturalists in the lowest rank in the animal kingdom, and that, not so much on account of their aquatic habits, which in some measure assimilate them with fishes, as on account of their structure, which differs in some respects from that of all other animals. The classification of allanimals into such as breathe the free air, and such as breathe through the medium of water, does not hold good with respect to the order of reptiles to which frogs belong. In the case of all other animals, each has its proper element to which it especially belongs, and out of which it cannot exist for any considerable time. Many of the inhabitants of the air find their appropriate food in the water, and some of the water animals pass a portion of their time in the air, but the degree in which they are able to do this, though different in different species, has yet its limits, and the animal, whether in its embryo state, or arrived at maturity, cannot be exposed to the wrong element, beyond a certain period of time, without the extinction of the vital principle within it. The eggs of aquatic reptiles in general are, therefore, placed where they may be hatched in their proper element, the air :-they are deposited in holes in the sand, &c., beyond the reach of the water, and there left to be developed by the action of the sun's rays. But with the common frog, and other reptiles of the order we are now speaking of, the case is very differThe spawn of these animals, which consists of a large heap, or clustered mass of transparent eggs, in each of which the round black globule of the embryo may be seen, is deposited in pools and ditches where the water is shallow, and where the full influence of the sun and atmosphere may be felt to the bottom. There the eggs float on the water, having one side exposed to the air, and thus they abide the vicissitudes of the seasons, without any shelter from inclement weather. At one time they are frozen into a solid mass, at another they are pelted with heavy rain, apparently without receiving the least injury. The same pool which has perhaps remained frozen for a considerable time, long enough we should have thought to destroy effectually the living principle of the spawn, is yet, on the return of summer, swarming with tadpoles, or frogs in the first stages of their existence. No other vertebrated animals, save those of this family, are found to leave their eggs wholly unprotected, and exposed to the action of the weather, nor are any other animals possessed like them of what may be termed a double life. In the case of the common frog it is perhaps more correct to say, that it has two lives in succession; but in that of some others of this family, where the breathing processes are retained in both kinds, i.e., where the animal is qualified to pass at pleasure its whole life in the water, or its whole life in the air, the creature is distinct from all others, and merits the term amphibious, to its fullest extent. Indeed this term is not strictly true in its application to any other animals than the several species of frogs just referred to. Most of our readers must be well acquainted with the form of the tadpole. The disproportionate size of the head, and the length of the tail, in this little creature, give it a very curious appearance. The head is furnished with jaws, or mandibles, which are employed in nibbling animal or vegetable matters. These mandibles are furnished with extremely minute teeth, or denticulations, with which they may be even heard to gnaw the edges of the leaves on which they

feed. The tadpole is also furnished with a small kind of tubular sphincter or sucker, beneath the lower jaw, by means of which it hangs at pleasure to the under surface of aquatic plants, &c. The tail is the only organ of motion, and in order to make any progress in the water the tadpole is obliged to exert it with great velocity. While in this state, the animal breathes water only, being incapable of existence in the air.

The vast numbers of these creatures brought out by the warmth of a July sun, might seem at first sight unnecessary and unaccountable; but there is reason to believe that tadpoles perform an important part in purifying the ponds and ditches where they abound from such substances, animal as well as vegetable, as would otherwise accumulate, become putrid, and corrupt the atmosphere in the vicinity. While they are thus acting their part in the economy of nature, their own numbers become reduced to the necessary limits, by the attacks of different aquatic birds frequenting the ponds and marshes, dabbling in the shallow pools, and gaining part of their subsistence from the small fishes, tadpoles, &c., abounding there.

When the appointed time arrives for the change of the tadpole from being a breather of water to becoming a breather of air, the new members which it requires are gradually added, and the old ones shed, or absorbed. At this time tadpoles may be seen with feet partially developed, while yet the swimming tail adheres, and thus the imperfect animal has a strange and ambiguous appearance, partaking of the form of the frog and lizard. The tail however soon begins to decrease, at first gradually, and at length so rapidly as to become quite obliterated in a day or two. The celebrated Lord Bacon displays an unaccountable degree of ignorance as to the formation of the frog, and its gradual progress from the tadpole state, to that of the complete animal. In his Natural History he mentions as a peculiar and extraordinary circumstance, that young frogs and toads have sometimes been observed with tails, and that the years in which such phenomena have been remarked, have proved more than commonly pestilential and unhealthy; from whence he draws the conclusion, that the appearance of such tailed animals "argueth a great disposition to putrefaction in the soile and aire." When the lungs of the tadpole are fully developed, the character of the land animal predominates. During the tadpole state the system of circulation had been that of a fish. The heart had but one auricle and one ventricle; it was merely a branchial heart, sending the blood to the gills by its contractions. The systematic circulation was performed by the arteries alone, and had little force or velocity, and consequently little heat. But when the gills disappeared, the arterial branches by which the blood was conveyed to them also became absorbed, only two remaining which were directed to the two lungs. A portion of the blood which the heart propels is carried to the lungs, while the remainder is employed in the systematic circulation, without being acted on by air. As the action of the air on the blood appears to be the grand source of energy to the system of the whole animal, it is natural that frogs, in whom the portion of blood subjected to its influence is very small, should be the cold, enduring creatures that we find them to be. The slowness of circulation in these animals, with the transparency of their skins, has rendered it possible to make some very interesting observations on the passage of the blood from the arteries to the veins. By means of a microscope of high power, this delicate process may be seen through the integument which covers the web of a frog's foot.

Arteries and veins have no communication with each other at their remote extremities, except by means of those capillaries, which are so small as to be invisible to the naked eye; hence the interest which is attached to the observation in question.

The frog is not in possession of the same sort of apparatus for working the lungs as other animals. It has neither ribs nor breast-bone, and therefore the thorax does not act in breathing; it receives air through the nostrils, but an effort is required to send the air into the lungs. This is performed by means of the tongue, which is first raised to close the nostrils, and then turned gradually backwards so as to force the air all contained in the mouth to the cells of the lungs. This constitutes one respiration, and as the tongue is removed, the air again enters the nostrils, while the muscles of the abdomen contract and expel the air which has performed its office. Thus the frog respires without any assistance from the mouth; indeed if the mouth were kept forcibly open, respiration could no longer proceed, and the animal would as certainly die of suffocation, as would the higher animals if the mouth and nostrils were kept shut.

The muscular power of the frog is made evident to us by the prodigious leaps which it is able to make. These leaps sometimes raise it in the air to twenty times its own height, and convey it, at one bound, over a space fifty times the length of its own body. The mechanism which gives such power to its lower limbs also constitutes the frog an excellent swimmer, and in this situation the action of the limbs bears a remarkable similarity to that of man when so employed.

The skin of frogs is smooth, without scales, hair, or any other appendage, and by means of its pores it absorbs and evaporates fluids very rapidly. By this means it is supposed that the air contained in water is made subservient to the respiration of the animal. Dr. Townson found that a frog will sometimes absorb in half an hour half its own weight of water, and in a few hours nearly its entire weight. When the animal so filled was placed in a dry, warm situation, it gave off this fluid almost as rapidly as it had accumulated it. He is of opinion that the frog tribe never drink, but are supplied by the process of absorption. When kept in a comparatively dry situation, frogs become thin and meagre, but their plumpness is quickly restored when they have the power of renewing their supply of moisture.

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from the spawn to the complete frog. The largest figure represents a frog of about four years old, in the act of securing its prey. A frog of five or six years old is considerably larger than the animal here represented. At the age of five or six, it may be said to have attained its full size, and it is supposed to live at least twelve or fifteen years.

PLYMOUTH AND DEVONPORT.

II.

IT was in the reign of William the Third that a Royal Dock was established at Plymouth, or rather in the parish of Stoke Damarell, in the neighbourhood of Plymouth, and it is from this period that we may date the rise of the town now called Devonport. The various buildings in and near this town belonging to the Royal Navy have been in a progressive state of improvement from the time of William the Third to the present day.

The Dockyard at Devonport is situated on the eastern bank of the Hamoaze, or harbour, and is separated from the town by a lofty wall: it includes an extent of seventy acres of ground. On entering the gates, the first building seen is the Warden's house, and near this is the Dockyard Chapel: the latter was built by government for the use of those living in the yard, but it is also open to the inhabitants of Devonport: the chaplain receives, in addition to a stipend from government, twopence per month from the pay of each of the officers and seamen belonging to ships laid up in ordinary. Near the chapel are the Military Guard House, the Navy Pay Office, the Surgery, and a large reservoir. The new North Dock, constructed in 1789, is two hundred and forty feet long, eighty-five broad, and twentynine deep, and is said to be the largest in England: ships are occasionally taken into this dock with their masts and rigging complete. Near this is a smithery, a stupendous building, two hundred and ten feet square, containing forty-eight forges. Several hundred anchors, some weighing five tons each, are sometimes to be seen piled up on the wharf in front of this building. Near the smithery are the plumber's, bricklayer's, and stone-mason's shops.

These harmless creatures subsist on insects, larvæ, &c., and are therefore beneficial in gardens. For the readier obtaining of their prey, the structure of the tongue in these animals is extremely well calculated, being so situated, that the root is attached to the fore rather than the hind part of the mouth; and when at rest, lies backwards, as if the animal were swallowing the tip. By this means, the creature is enabled to throw it out to some distance from the mouth, which is done with great celerity, and the prey is secured and swallowed with an instantaneous motion, so quick that the eye can scarcely follow it. They doze out the cold season in holes of the earth, or at the bottom of the water. They are not in the least degree injurious to man; they have no weapons either of offence or defence; and though their croakings are by no means pleasing to the ear, and their forms are not such as we can call beautiful, yet the peculiarity of their structure, and the use they are of, both in the tadpole state and in their after form, must render them interesting to the naturalist, and worthy his especial notice. The wood-cut at the head of this article represents the animal in all its appearances,

There are various other docks besides that one of which we have spoken: one is called the North Dock; another the Double Dock; and a third is the dock constructed in the reign of William the Third, and now used principally for repairing frigates. Near the last-mentioned dock is the basin constructed at the same time: it is a large excavation, communicating with the harbour by means of an opening about seventy feet wide: it is of an oblong shape, and contains the boats and launches belonging to the yard. Near this basin is a kiln, for steaming such planks as are required to assume a curved form, saw-pits, and pump-houses, containing machinery for drawing the water from the docks.

The Rigging-house is a splendid building, four hundred and eighty feet in length, and three stories high: it forms one side of a quadrangle, the area of which is entirely composed of stone and iron, and is called the "combustible storehouse." Vessels used formerly to be built in the open air; but they are now built in spots covered with immense roofs. Near these building places, or "slips," as they are called, is the Mast Pond, which is a large piece of water, enclosed from the harbour by a strong wall, ten feet thick, paved at the top with granite: in this pond or basin masts and spars are deposited, in order to prevent them from being injured by exposure to the sun,

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