‘Look at a field of buttercups and daisies,’ says Mr. Wallace, a very competent judge, ‘a hill-side covered with gorse and broom, a mountain rich with purple heather, or a forest glade azure with a carpet of wild hyacinths, and they will bear a comparison with any scene the tropics can produce. I have never seen anything more glorious than an old crab-tree in full blossom, and the horse-chestnut, lilac, and laburnum will vie with the choicest tropical trees and shrubs. In the tropical waters are no more beautiful plants than our white and yellow water lilies, our irises and flowering rush, for I cannot consider the flower of the Victoria Regia more beautiful than that of the Nymphæa alba, though it may be larger, nor is it so abundant an ornament of the tropical waters as the latter is of ours.’ Let us, therefore, unseduced by the highly coloured statements of travellers, learn to be contented with the beauties which Nature has lavished on our woods and fields, nor deem that England-- ‘Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride, And brighter streams than famed Hydaspes glide’-- has received but a step-motherly share in the distribution of her gifts. Like the ocean, the forest has its voices, now swelling into uproar, now subsiding into silence; but while the wind and the breaker are the only musicians of the sea, the woods resound with animal voices. In general, the morning hours are the loudest; for the creatures that delight in daylight, though not more numerous than the nocturnal species, have generally a louder voice. Their full concert, however, does not begin immediately after sunrise; for they are mostly so chilled by the colder night, that they need to be warmed for some time before awakening to the complete use of their faculties. First, single tones ring from the higher tree-crowns, and gradually thousands of voices join in various modulation--now approaching, now melting into distance. Pre-eminent in loudness is the roar of the howling monkeys, though without being able fully to stifle the discordant cries and chattering of the noisy parrots. But the sun rapidly ascends towards the zenith, and one musician after the other grows mute and seeks the cool forest shade, until finally the whole morning concert ceases. Where the rays of light break through the foliage and play upon the underwood, or on the damp ground, gaudy butterflies flutter about, beetles of metallic brilliancy warm themselves, and richly-robed or dark-vested snakes creep forth; for these indolent creatures are also fond of basking in the sun. [Illustration: IVORY-BILLED WOODPECKER.]