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THIS curious and beautiful insect is distinguished by its antenna growing thicker towards the tip, and generally ending in a knob; wings, when sitting, erect, the edges meeting together over the abdomen, it flies in the day time. There are very nearly twelve hundred species scattered over the globe, of which nearly seventy are natives of our own country.

Butterflies of every description are ev

tremely prolific; a single female, at one birth, produces several hundred eggs: and one of the most wonderful particulars in the history of these insects, is the precaution with which they provide for the security of their young: some species tear off even the down from their own bodies to supply them with a covering.

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The variety and richness of the colours that adorn the greater part of this tribe, have made it an object of especial research by painters as well as by naturalists. general the tropical climates, that heighten the colours both in the plumage of birds and the scales of fishes, offer the most gaudy specimens of the Butterfly. Our limits will only allow us to detail two or three descriptions in prose and verse of this beautiful insect.

The Priamus measures more than six inches from wing's end to wing's end: the upper wings are velvet black, with a broad band of the most beautiful grass-green, and of a satiny lustre, drawn from the shoulder to the tip; and another on the lower part of the wing, following the shape of that part, and of a somewhat undulating appearance as

it approaches the tip: the lower wings are of the same green colour, edged with velvet black, and marked by four spots of that colour; while at the upper part of each, or at the part where the upper wings lap over, is a squarish orange coloured spot; the thorax is black, with sprinklings of lucid green in the middle, and the abdomen is of a bright yellow, or gold colour. On the under side of the animal the distribution of colours is somewhat different, the green being disposed in central patches on the upper wings, and the lower being marked by more numerous black as well as orange spots. The red, or bloody spots on each side the thorax, are not always to be seen on this, the Trojan monarch. This is a very rare insect, and is a native of the island of Amboyna.

The Menelaus, may be considered as one of the most splendidly beautiful of the Butterfly tribe. Its size is large, measuring, when expanded, about six inches; and its colour is the most brilliant silver blue, that imagination can conceive; changing, according to the variation of the light, into a deeper blue, and in some lights to a greenish cast:

on the under side it is entirely brown, with numerous deeper and lighter undulations, and three large ocellated spots on each wing. This fly is a native of South America.

The Apollo is also a beautiful insect, somewhat larger than our great Cabbage Butterfly: it inhabits Europe, and has been occasionally found in our own gardens. It is furnished with tentacles, silky, black, with two red dots on the segment on each side.

The Peacock Butterfly is likewise an elegant insect, with angular indented wings, spotted with black, and a large blue eye in each. It is dotted behind with green and gold spots, and is a native of England.

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We shall now present our readers with a few descriptions in verse of this beautiful Insect, by several of our British poets.

The Birth of the BUTTERFLY.

When, bursting forth to life and light,
The offspring of enraptured May,

The Butterfly, on pinions bright,

Launched in full splendour on the day.

Unconscious of a mother's care,

No infant wretchedness it knew; But, as she felt the vernal air,

At once to full perfection grew.

Her slender form, etherial, light,

Her velvet textur'd wings unfold,
With all the rainbow's colours bright,
And dropt with spots of burnish'd gold.

Trembling awhile, with joy she stood,
And felt the sun's enliv'ning ray,
Drank from the skies the vital flood,
And wonder'd at her plumage gay.

And balanc'd oft her broidered wings,
Thro' fields of air prepar'd to sail;
Then on her vent'rous journey springs,
And floats along the rising gale.

Go child of pleasure, range the fields—

Taste all the joys that Spring can givePartake what bounteous Summer yields, ' And live, while yet 'tis thine to live.

Go sip the rose's fragrant dew—

The lily's honey'd cup exploreFrom flower to flower the search renew, And rifle all the woodbine's store.

And let me trace thy vagrant flight,
Thy moments, too, of short repose:

And mark thee, when, with fresh delight,
Thy golden pinions ope and close.

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