is left to form a ball close to the stem itself, and it is recommended to suffer two or three feet of the original sward to adhere to it. The machine is next brought up to the stem of the tree with great caution. This engine is of three sizes, that being used which is best adapted to the size of the trees, and is drawn by one, or, at most, two horses. It consists of a strong pole, mounted upon two high wheels. It is run up to the tree, and the pole, strongly secured to the tree while both are in a perpendicular posture, is brought down to a horizontal position, and in descending in obedience to the purchase operates as a lever, which, aided by the exertions of the pickmen, rends the tree out of the soil. The tree is so laid on the machine as to balance the roots against the branches, and it is wonderful how slight an effort is necessary to pull the engine when this equilibrium is preserved. To keep the balance just, one man, or two, are placed aloft among the branches of the tree, where they shift their places, like a sort of moveable ballast, until the just distribution of weight is ascertained. The roots, as well as the branches, are tied up during the transportation of the tree, it being of the last consequence that neither should be torn nor defaced by dragging on the ground or interfering with the wheels. The mass, when put in motion, is manœuvred something like a piece of artillery, by a steersman at the further end. It requires a certain nicety of steerage, and the whole process has its risks. The pit for receiving the transplanted tree, which ought to have been prepared at least a twelvemonth before, is now opened for its reception, the earth being thrown out to such a depth as will suit its size; with this caution, that the tree be set in the earth as shallow as possible, but always so as to allow room for the dipping of the vertical roots on the one hand, and sufficient cover at top on the other. This is preferred, even though it should be found necessary to add a cart-load or two of earth to the mound afterwards. It is well known that in all stormy and uncertain climates every species of tree shows what is called a weather side, that is, its branches shoot more freely to that side which is leeward during the prevailing wind than in the opposite direction. Sir Henry Steuart recommends strongly that the position of the tree be reversed, so that the lee side, where the branches are elongated, shall be pointed towards the prevailing wind; and what was formerly the wea ther-side, being now turned to leeward, shall be encouraged, by its new position, to shoot out in such a manner as to restore the balance and symmetry of the top. A second and most important deviation from the common course of transportation is, the total disuse of the barbarous practice of pollarding or otherwise mutilating and dismembering the trees which are to be transplanted. Sir Henry recommends watering as one of the principal points respecting the subsequent treatment of the transplanted tree. When the trees stand snugly, or in loose and open disposition, he directs that the earth around them should be firmly beaten down by a machine resembling that of a pavior, but heavier, about the month of April or May, when the natural consolidation shall have, in a great measure, taken place. To exclude the drought, he then advises that the ground immediately under the stem of the oak, birch, and other trees which demand most attention, should be covered with a substance called shews, being the refuse of a flax-mill, which of course serves to exclude the drought, like the process which the gardeners call mulching. Last ly, in the case of such transplanted trees as do not seem disposed to thrive equally with the others, we are instructed to lay around the stem four cart-loads of earth, with a cart-load of coal-ashes carefully sifted: this composition is spread about the trees in a proportion of nine inches in depth around the stem or centre, and five inches at the extremity of the roots.Quarterly Review. In March, trouts begin to rise, and blood worms appear in the water. The clay hair-worm is found at the bottom of drains and ditches (see T.T. for 1823, p. 85), and the water-flea may be seen gliding about upon the surface of sheltered pools.-See T.T. for 1824, p. 88. Bats now issue from their places of concealment. Peas appear above ground; the sea-kale begins to sprout. The male blossoms of the yew-tree expand and discharge their farina. Sparrows are busily employed in forming their nests. Young otters are produced, and young lambs are yeaned this month; but these latter, in the mountainous parts of the United Kingdom, often become the prey of the king of birds. Eagles are certainly among the largest birds, and eminent for great strength and powers of destruction. They may be compared to the race of giants among men, as described in the Fairy Tales; but we seldom read of these giants being at the same time brave, generous, or docile. On the contrary, poets describe them as treacherous, cowardly, and blood-thirsty; in short, just such a race as the eagles are among birds. They may be kept in confinement, and reared from the nest, but they are never tamed; and they will occasionally rob other more courageous hunters of the spoil which they want either the bravery or activity to procure for themselves. Wilson, the delightful author of the American Ornithology, describes this trait in the character of the bald eagles, in the following glowing colours: Elevated on the high dead limb of some gigantic tree, he seems calmly to contemplate the motions of the feathered tribes below. High over all these hovers one, whose action instantly arrests his attention: by his wide curvature of wing and sudden suspension in air, he knows him to be the fish-hawk, L settling over some devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at the sight; and, balancing himself with half open wings on the branch, he watches the result. Down, rapid as an arrow from heaven, descends the distant object of his attention, the roar of its wings reaching the ear as it disappears in the deep. At this moment, the eager looks of the eagle are all ardour; and, levelling his neck for flight, he sees the fish-hawk once more emerge, struggling with his prey, and mounting in the air with screams of exultation. This is the signal for our hero, who, launching into the air, instantly gives chase, and soon gains on the fish-hawk: each exerts his utmost to mount above the other, displaying in these rencontres the most elegant and sublime aërial evolutions. The unencumbered eagle rapidly advances, and is just on the point of reaching his opponent, when, with a sudden scream, probably of despair and honest execration, the latter drops his fish. The eagle, poising himself for a moment, as if to take a more certain aim, descends like a whirlwind, snatches it in his grasp ere it reaches the water, and bears his ill-gotten booty silently away to the woods.' In proof, however, of the innate cowardice of this formidable robber, the same author adds,- When driven, as he sometimes is, by the combined courage of the fish-hawks, from their neighbourhood, and forced to hunt for himself, he retires more inland, in search of young pigs, of which he destroys great numbers. He will also attack old sickly sheep, aiming furiously at their eyes.' Large Eagle.-A very fine eagle was entrapped in March, 1828, by Captain Ramsay's game-keeper, on the hills above Balnakettle, in Kincardineshire. This magnificent bird measured seven feet two inches between the tips of the wings, and weighed ten pounds and a half: that part of his leg commonly called the drumstick, was larger than a man can grasp with his hand. He was not at all injured by the trap, having been caught by one of the toes, and was placed in a large cage, to keep company with another fine bird of the same species, which was taken from the nest in the Clova hills, about four years ago, and is not inferior in beauty of plumage, and not much inferior in size. The WOUNDEd Eagle. [By Felicia Hemans.] Si j'avais placé ma tête dans le ciel, à l'abri des affections orageuses, je ne serais pas brisée avant le temps.--Corinne. Eagle! this is not thy sphere! Warrior-bird, what seek'st thou here? Layst thou thus thy drooping head? Eagle! wilt thou not arise? Thou hast stooped too near the earth, Wert thou weary of thy throne? Literary Gazette. The brimstone-coloured butterfly (Gonepteryx rhamni), which lives throughout the winter, is usu |