"Some, amidst India's groves of palm,
And spicy forests breathing balm,
Weave soft their pendant nest;
Some deep in western wilds, display
Their fairy form and plumage gay,
In rainbow colours drest.

Others no varied song may pour,
May boast no eagle plume to soar,
No tints of light may wear;

Yet, know, our heavenly Father guides
The least of these, and well provides,
For each, with tenderest care.

Shall he not then thy guardian be?
Will not his aid extend to thee?
Oh! safely may'st thou rest;
Trust in his love, and e'en should pain,

Should sorrow tempt thee to complain,
Know what he wills is best."

An interesting fact in reference to the sparrow was related a short time ago in the Naturalists' Magazine : it has since been given as follows, in verse:

"I dote on every little bird

That twitters in the sun

I love them all, from having heard
The simple tale of one!

In cage that 'neath the eaves was hung
When morn put forth her smiles,

A little yellow warbler sung

A song of distant isles!

One morn, when loud his melody,
There came on idle wing
A sparrow, and, from sympathy,
Thus seem'd to say or sing:-

'Fair captive! why this joyous lay,
When sad should be thy heart?
Art thinking of a happier day,
Forgetful what thou art?

Perchance, while high thy music floats,
Where ne'er thy wings may flee,
Thy spirit rises with thy notes,
For they, at least, are free!

Thy song goes forth among the trees,
And up to heaven's high dome,
And haply bears thee o'er the seas
To thy own island home.

Poor bird! could'st thou come forth with me,

I'd lead thee to the grove,

Where all that's known of slavery

Is servitude to love!

How sweet to join our airy chase,
Or cower within thy nest,
Yet only bound to that one place
Because thou loved'st it best!

Alas, alas! the wish is vain,

Thy prison-bars are strong;

But I will come to thee again,
Adieu, sweet bird of song!'

Away it flew, but day by day,
Return'd with gather'd food,

And through long months, the watchers say,
Went on this work of good.

I felt my noblest thoughts ascend,

Such heaven-taught love to trace,

And deem'd, perchance, this captive's friend, The Howard of its race!"

THE PHEASANT.

PLINY called these birds "Phasianæ aves," birds of the Phasis, in Asia Minor. They are brought from the banks of that river, which flows into the Euxine Sea, and are now spread, in a partially domesticated state, over the whole of temperate Europe. In our part of it the pheasant is common, and thrives tolerably well. This is not the case in many situations; it is subject to disease, and thus great mortality arises. The beauty of its plumage, and the delicacy of its flesh, render it attractive and valuable.

When Croesus, king of Lydia, was seated on his throne, arrayed in all the royal magnificence of the East, he asked Solon, the celebrated Grecian philosopher, if he had ever beheld anything so fine? Solon, unmoved by the splendour before him, replied, that after having seen the beautiful plumage of the pheasant, he could be astonished at no other finery.

The splendid bird still meets the view, but the male alone is remarkable for its beauty: a quiet dress of

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