For they all are brave, as their women are pure,
And they loathe the wanton breast,

And each man for ever his faith holds sure

To the woman he loves the best.

And they live in the dales that gave them birth,
Content with a simple life,

With the sullen sky and the savage earth

Still waging a stubborn strife.

And they reap their rye, and they bake their bread

And they calmly bide their time,

For the Viking spirit is not yet dead
In the men of our nothern clime.

But they patient wait by their stormy seas
Till luxury's work be done:

Till the southern nations are drunk with ease,

And soft with the southern sun.

Then with sword unsheathed, and with flag unfurled
They will come like a raging flood,

And refresh the heart of the languid world

With a draught of the northern blood.

(w.)

THE BUTTERFLIES.

THE lovers of Entomology have now another, but we hope, not a stronger motive to pursue their favourite study: and those that have never yet tasted its joys, that have never felt the pleasure of a rare capture, or a successful chase, are invited by the "sordid love of gold" to swell the ranks of the naturalists. Perhaps, therefore, a few hints may

not be out of place from one, who, though he has not perhaps actually grown grey in the study, has at least a difficulty in remembering the time when the whole eagerness of his nature could not be roused by the sight of a "specimen." Now of course I might dilate upon the "instrumenta belli:" I might describe at length the paraphanalia of nets, laurel-boxes, breeding-cages, pupa-digging apparatus, chloroform, camphor, and the like: or I might expatiate on the beauties of this larva, or the ingenuity of that cocoon: but wishing as I do to study the useful rather than the ornamental, I intend to confine myself to mentioning a few of the chief entomological glories of the neighbourhood of Rugby, and to put the uninitiated up to a "wrinkle" or two, to assist them in discovering and securing their manifold prey.

First then, we can imagine a tyro entomologist, (having fully made up his mind to be an entomologist) being at first starting in a state of arropía, to know where he shall look for his unwitting victims. To this question I have two answers. First, everywhere. That is, wherever you are, always keep a sharp look-out: for, crede experto, if you ever go into the open air without a goodly store of pill-boxes, your entomological mouth is sure to be made to water by the sight of "such a beauty," which you would give your ears to be able to catch, but unfortunately "I left everything at home: I didn't think I should see anything." This then bear in mind: always keep your eyes open, and you will without fail be rewarded. But, secondly, without doubt, if you are going expressly to "catch," some places are better than others; and in this respect perhaps six years experience may be able to help you a little. First then I would mention our own School close: you

cannot have any idea of the treasures it contains, until you search. To convince you I will mention a "thing" or two which I have taken there on various occasions. From the middle of August to the end of October, you can find the larva (caterpillar) of Smerinthos Tilia or Lime Hawk on the trunks of the Elms. One year I took above a dozen, and never passed a year without getting some. At the same place and time you can get the larva Biston Betularius, the Pepper: also (start not reader!) the rare and beautiful Acronycta Alni. These however are larvæ, and therefore would be useless for this year's collection: except that where there are larvæ, there must be imagines, and therefore doubtless a careful search will tell. You can find the common Orthosia Stabilis, Instabilis, and Gothica, now, by looking well for them, but especially by turning up the loose earth in the crevices of the elm-roots, will you get goodly stores of pupa or chrysalides, not only of the above mentioned Orthosia, but many others doubtless, as Axylia Putris, Noctua Plecta, and the winter moths, as Hibernia Capreolaria, Anisopteryx Æscularia, Phigalia Pilosaria, and many others. By the way if any of your chrysalides come out without wings, don't either throw it away as good for nothing, or consider it as a lusus naturæ, for of all the winter months the females have either no wings, or only rudimentary ones. The little moths that you can get now or very soon are by no means few or despicable: and especially would I warn you against the fearful mistake of ever throwing away a specimen because it is small: for you will doubtless live to repent it. You will be sure to find during April some of the following: Dasycera Sulphurella, a little yellowish moth on bark: Chimabacche Fagella one ditto, a whitish little moth that sits close in the crevices;

and that plague of Naturalists, the common little house moth. But do not by any means confine yourself to the close. Batley's Garden is a very tolerably good place; and Coton Wood a decidedly good one: the Hedges on the Newbold Road will produce many a "Carpet," and some which though tolerably common, you will not find elsewhere near Rugby; as far at least as my experience goes, of this latter class are Ania Emarginaria, and Bradycpetes Amataria. The Barby Road is by no means unproductive, and in the Dunchurch Road I once took Ennomos Flexula!

For butterflies you must make up your series immediately of the three whites P. Brassica, Rape and Napi and the Brimstone Goniapteryx Rhamni: also of the Browns Hipparchia Janira, Tithonus, Pamphilus, and Megara, all of which you can get here (especially in the fields towards Swift's, so make a memorandum, always carry a pocket net down to bathe,) and the Tortoiseshell. A little perseverance or good luck will reward you also with the beautiful orange tip, Anthocharis Cardamines, and perhaps some of the Fritillaries. These are all either out now, or will be coming gradually out in due succession; so that no time must be lost. If you could get a chance of Coombe Wood, oh! I envy your feelings after a day's work there. One piece of advice before I leave the Butterflies: never leave anything to catch at any time, because it is so common. Any time is most truly said, and especially in this case, to be no time.

Such are some of the many productions of this place; but of course they can be only one hundredth part of what a diligent search will bring to light; and besides as the year draws on, the numbers increase, so that perchance I

BB

may give you at some future period some more injunctions and hints; for the present I will leave you with a parting recommendation to purchase as quickly as possible the first three numbers if not more of Stainton's Manual of British Lepidoptera, price 3d. per number. They are worth six times their price, as you will find. Now buckle yourself for the chase, and good luck to you!

THE TIMES READERS.

Vide Poet-Laur., Lotos Eaters.

The Thunderer spreads before each Briton's eyes:
The Thunderer over every breakfast-table lies:

All night the printers toil, their needful rest denied ;

By every paper-cad at morning tide

Round and round the London streets the noisy Thunderer is cried.
We have had enough of thinking, and of talking we,
Teazed by Tories, teazed by Chartists, now reform is raging free.
While the spluttering stump-man spouteth his orations furiously.
Let us get the Times and read it with an equal mind,

Save ourselves the toil of thinking, as we lie at ease reclined,
In our halls like daily writers, careless of mankind.
For they lie beside their pewters, and their bolts are hurled
All about them over England, and the smoke is lightly curled
Round their parted lips, that utter wisdom for the world.
There they smile in secret, looking o'er neglected lands,
Sorrow, pestilence, and trouble, crowded alleys, ruffian bands,
And the surplus population; starving, toiling 'hands.'

* Van Voorst, Paternoster Row, London.