4} BRITISH BIRDS' EGGS. 



" Should fate command me to the furthest verge 

 Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, 

 Rivers unknown to song, where first the sun 

 Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam 

 Flames on the Atlantic isles, 't is naught to me, 

 Since God is ever present, ever felt, 

 In the void waste as in the city full, 

 And where He vital breathes there must be joy." 



Increased resources, and that mental vigour produced by 

 the exercise of the faculties of the mind, constitute but a 

 part of the improvement which attends the study of creation ; 

 to a rightly directed and well regulated mind, it is a source 

 of moral culture likewise. All creation has a voice of 

 mingled majesty and sweetness to speak of Him who is its 

 Author : " All Thy works shall praise Thee, O Lord ! " and 

 we should deplore that state of mind which failed to recog- 

 nize a glorious presence, although invisible, throughout the 

 works of the Almighty, or to which the consciousness of 

 the Creator's nearness did not become a means of moral 

 improvement. "I pass out among our sylvan scenes/' says 

 a manly writer of the present day, "and here, on the spray 

 of the tasselled broom, there sits and sings a little bird ; 

 it fills the glen with melody ; and from his throat and 

 throbbing breast he rings out the sweetest music, as with 



