application in medicine, they had no power unless gathered under planetary influence, "sliver'd in the moon's eclipse."

Von Os. When Mercury was culminating, or Mars and Venus had got into the ninth house.

Dov. 'Tis curious to reflect, that at the vast baronial feasts, in the days of the Plantagenets and Tudors, where we read of such onslaught of beeves, muttons, hogs, fowl and fish, the courtly knights and beauteous dames had no other vegetable save bread—not even a potato!

Von Os.

Dov. And when the cloth was drawn—

Von Os. Cloth!—

Dov. They had scarce an apple to give zest to their wine.

Von Os. We read of roasted crabs; and mayhap they had baked acorns and pignuts.

Dov. Ha! ha! ha!—Caliban's dainties. Now we have wholesome vegetables almost for nothing, and pine-apples for a trifle. Thanks to Mr. Knight—push the bottle—here's to his health in a bumper.

Von Os. Who, walking on Chester walls in those days, and seeing the Brassica oleracea, where it grows in abundance, would have supposed that from it would spring cabbages as big as drums, and cauliflowers as florid as a bishop's wig?

Dov. Or cautiously chaumbering an acrid sloe, imagine it to be the parent of a green gage?

Von Os. This is the Education of Vegetables.

Dov. The March of Increment!

THE TULIP TREE.

This tree is now in bloom. It is a native of North America, where it is vulgarly called the poplar. The first which produced blossoms in this country, is said to have been at the Earl of Peterborough's, at Parson's Green, near Fulham. In 1688 this tree was cultivated by Bishop Compton at Fulham, who introduced a great number of new plants from North America. At Waltham Abbey, is a tulip tree, supposed to be the largest in England. The leaves of the tulip tree are very curious, and appear as if cut off with scissors. The flowers, though not glaring, are singularly beautiful, resembling a small tulip, variegated with green, yellow and orange, standing solitary at the ends of the branches. I saw one of these curious trees in full bloom a few days since between Edmonton and Enfield.

P.T.W.

CHANGES DURING THE MATURATION OF FRUIT.

The sap is changed into a viscid fluid, which circulates under the bark: this is called cambium. When it is too abundant it is effused, part of its water evaporates, and it becomes gum. If the vital circle is not interrupted, the fluid traverses the branches, and the peduncle arrives in the ovary, and constitutes the pericarp. In this passage it is partly modified: it appropriates to itself the oxygen of its water of composition; hence the malic, citric, and tartaric acids. As the fruit becomes developed, the pellicle thins, becomes transparent, and allows both light and heat to exercise a more marked influence. It is during this period that maturation commences. The acids react on the cambium, which flows into the fruit, and, aided by the increased temperature, convert it into saccharine matter; at the same time they disappear, being saturated with gelatine, when maturation is complete.—London Medical and Surgical Journal.

We may here observe that in a recent paper, by Mr. J. Williams, in the Transactions of the Horticultural Society, the cause of apples becoming russet is attributed to the alternating temperature, light, shade, dryness, and moisture, which occur many times in the course of a day, when July or August is showery. Continued rain, preceded and followed by a cloudy sky, does not seem to produce the same effect, but the sudden, intense light which commonly succeeds a shower at the time the fruit is wet, injures the skin, and occasions small cracks, like the network upon a melon.

MIGRATION OF BIRDS.

Whatever theory of instinct may be finally fixed upon as the most correct and philosophical, (to account for the migratory movements of birds,) it is obvious that we cut rather than untie the gordian knot when we talk of the foresight of the brute creation. We might as well talk of the foresight of a barometer. There can be little doubt that birds, prior to their migratory movements, are influenced by atmospherical changes, or other physical causes, which, however beyond the sphere of our perceptions, are sufficient for their guidance. That they are not possessed of the power of divination may be exemplified by the following instance. The winter of 1822 was so remarkably mild throughout Europe, that primroses came generally into flower by the end of December,—rye was in ear by the middle of March, and vines, in sheltered situations, blossomed about the end of that month,—so that an assured and unchecked spring was established at least four or five weeks earlier than usual;—yet neither the cuckoo nor the swallow arrived a single day before their accustomed periods. They are indeed, beautifully and wisely directed,—"Yea, the stork in the heavens knoweth her appointed times; and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow, observe the time of their coming."—(From a delightful paper upon American Ornithology, in the Quarterly Review, just published.)

FINE ARTS.

STATUE OF MR. PITT.

This splendid tribute to the memory of the darling minister, has been placed at the south side of Hanover Square. It is of bronze, and stands on a granite pedestal, of size disproportionate to the height and bulk of the figure. The artist is Mr. Chantrey: the work being at the cost of the nobility of the land, and a few ardent admirers of "the system" introduced by Mr. Pitt into the government of this country. We have long had festal celebrations and joyous commemorations of the natal day and deeds of the minister—"the darling of fame"—but the above is the most lasting memorial. Its bronze will in all probability outlast the mettle of party. The resemblance is considered striking, and the effect of the statue is bold and dignified. Biographers tell us that "in person, Pitt was tall, slender, well-proportioned, and active. He had blue eyes, rather a fair complexion, prominent features, and a high, capacious forehead. His aspect was severe and forbidding; his voice clear and powerful; his action dignified, but neither graceful nor engaging; his tone and manners, although urbane and complacent in society, were lofty, and even arrogant, in the senate. On entering the house, it was his custom to stalk sternly to his place, without honouring even his most favoured adherents with a word, a nod, or even a glance of recognition."

THE DIORAMA, REGENT'S PARK

Has reopened with two new views—Paris from Montmartre, (by no means a new, but, perhaps, the best, point of view of the city,)—and the famed Campo Santo of Pisa. The execution of both scenes is calculated to maintain the unique reputation of the establishment. They have the fine effects, the finishing touches, of master-hands.

NEW BOOKS.

THE TRIALS OF CHARLES I.

(With those of some of the Regicides have been prepared for the 31st volume of the Family Library. We suspect the editor to be M. D'Israeli, who has been poring over the records and fingering the dust of the Royal "martyr" for many years past. Our honourable