him the reputation, which still attaches to his name, of being the best observer of insects that ever lived.

"You remember," said the Abbé, "our conversation respecting some curious nests formed by insects out of leaves, a single specimen of which was sent me from Martinique."

"Perfectly," said Réaumur, "and I have

"God forbid!" exclaimed the terrified gardener, as if the very mention of the thing was as dangerous as the thing itself. "Well," said the Abbé, "I strongly suspect these rolls are the work of neither witches nor sorcerers, but simply of insects, and are, in fact, nests for their young. I have in my possession some rolls not unlike these, which I know to be the work of insects. I will show them to you." The Abbé then opened a cabinet, and pulled out a sliding shelf, on which | various insects, their nests and eggs, were arranged; and among them was a roll similar in construction, but not of the same size, as those which had excited the terror of our honest gardener.

"This," said the Abbé, “is an insect's nest; now let us open one of these which have caused you so much alarm." Whereupon he pulled one apart, and a large white grub fell out before the astonished eyes of his company.

The gardener's face, which before had expressed terror and dismay, now suddenly changed to delight and surprise. He rubbed his hands, laughed, and appeared like a man who had just escaped from some heavy calamity. His master exchanged a smile with the Abbé; and the gardener was beginning to express his gratitude, when the Abbé told him he would do him a great service, if, on his return to Andelis, he would collect as many of these nests as he could find, and pack them carefully in a box, and send them to his friend M. This Réaumer, at Bercy, by the mail. the gardener promised to do, and the party took leave of the good Abbé, well pleased with the result of their visit.

At an early hour the next morning, the Abbé Nollet proceeded to Bercy, in the neighborhood of Paris, to the house of his friend and benefactor, M. Réaumur, the celebrated naturalist, who was then engaged in those studies on the habits and economy of insects, which have secured to

"A very odd adventure happened to me yesterday, which I think will help you out of your difficulty," said the Abbé; who then related the adventure of the gardener, and ended by placing a number of the rolls before the delighted naturalist.

"Thanks, my kind friend," he said, and proceeded at once to examine his treasure. It consisted of a roll of leaf, or rather of several large oval pieces of leaf of the elm-tree, perfectly dry and brittle; on removing the first two or three pieces, which appeared to form an outer case or envelop, about half-a-dozen little cups were seen fitting into each other like so many thimbles, the smaller end of one passing into the larger open end of the other, and forming altogether a sort of cylinder. On pulling this apart, a large worm was discovered lodged in a silken cocoon.

"Why, this is the nymph of a bee!" said Réaumur, "and I strongly suspect that this is the nest of a solitary bee hitherto unknown in this country. You have, indeed, brought me a treasure. Yes! here is a grub not so far advanced: it has not consumed all its bee-bread."

"My honest gardener has engaged to send you some more of these nests," said the Abbé; who did not prolong his visit, since he saw how eager his friend was to study the specimens without interruption. It is scarcely necessary to inform the reader that insects provide for the continuance of their species by depositing their eggs in some safe place, with food at hand for the sustenance of the young grubs as soon as they are hatched. In many cases, the parent insect constructs a separate cell for each individual grub, filling it with food, depositing a single egg in the midst of the food, and then carefully sealing up the cell. In due time-in some species not before the following spring -the grub is hatched, and begins to consume the food provided by its careful mother; it grows rapidly, and fills up its narrow cell in proportion as its food disappears. When nothing more is left to eat, the grub prepares for its metamorphosis; it spins a silken shroud, or cocoon, in which it entirely conceals itself, remaining perfectly motionless and without food often during the whole winter. It is now called a chrysalis, and is the transition state between a caterpillar with perhaps sixteen legs, powerful jaws, and a voracious appetite, and a winged insect with six legs and a tube or proboscis, for sipping the nectar of flowers, or other liquid or juicy food. This is the imago, or perfect insect, which passes a short but active life, employed chiefly in providing for another generation, which she is destined never to behold; for as soon as her nest is complete, and all her eggs deposited, she falls a victim to the first cold of autumn. Such is the general outline of insect existence; there are many variations, it is true, but these need not occupy our attention here.

As soon as M. Réaumur had received the promised supply of leaf-nests from Andelis, he examined them very minutely. Each roll contained six or seven little cups of equal size, all concealed under a common envelope of leaves. These cups, as already noticed, fitted into each other, end to end, forming cells, each of which was destined to shelter a single worm from the time of its birth until it had attained the perfect insect form, and containing also the proper supply of liquid honey, or bee-bread, for its nourishment. All this was done with morsels of leaf

skillfully arranged, without paste or glue, but simply by lapping over each other in a curved form.

The pieces which compose each cell are of nearly the same shape. When cut from the leaf each piece is of course flat, but the bee knows how to bend it to her purpose; and she even folds down a portion of each piece, so as to form a base to the cell. Three similar and equal pieces, of a somewhat oval form, are more than sufficient to form a cell three lines in diameter and about six lines long. Strength is given to the cell by making the pieces that compose it lap over each other, and they are retained in their places by the spring which they acquire in drying. A cell, however, of three pieces is not sufficiently strong to hold the grub securely, and prevent the escape of its liquid food; the careful mother, therefore, folds three more pieces round the cell, and adjusts them in the same manner, and sometimes three or even six more; so that it is not uncommon to find a cell composed of twelve pieces of leaf, all of the same size, or nearly so, skillfully and artistically folded into the form of a hollow cup, capable of holding liquid honey.

Nor is this all. The little pot of honey being placed horizontally, a cover must be provided to prevent the liquid from flowing out. As soon, therefore, as the bee has filled the cell with bee-bread, within about half a line of the top, and has deposited an egg, she cuts out a circular piece of leaf, and fits it accurately into the open mouth of the cell. If one does not seem sufficient, she applies another, or even a third of these circular plates, which are kept in their places by the slightly conical form of the cell. The rim of the cell projects above these covers, forming a slight hollow, into which the bee carefully inserts the base of a new cell, which is finished as before; and in this way she completes a pile of six or seven cells, forming a tolerably equal cylinder. Lastly, she covers up these cells with an envelope formed of larger pieces of leaf than those previously used, and thus the nest is complete.

M. Réaumur found the bee-bread in the cells to be of a reddish color, of a sweet yet acid taste, and as fluid as honey. He carefully examined his rose-trees, and found that portions had been cut out of the leaves exactly corresponding to the sections which composed the nests. He there

fore determined to watch during several hours, at different parts of the day, in hopes of seeing the insect at work. He had not long to wait; for, about noon, on the second day of his watch, he observed a bee alight on a shrub, near the rose-bush to which he chiefly directed his attention, and, apparently finding everything quiet, the insect came over to the rose-bush, placed herself beneath a leaf, seized with her two mandibles the edge nearest to her, and cut it as easily as with a pair of scissors, advancing first toward the principal nervure of the leaf, and then sweeping round again to its edge, soon detached a piece, with which he flew away. All this was done with as much rapidity as one could cut out a similar piece from a sheet of paper with a pair of good scis

sors.

M. Réaumur did not see this operation repeated more than two or three times during this season; but, in the following spring, no sooner were his rose-trees in leaf, than he cast an eye upon them every time he went into his garden, and, as soon as any of the leaves had been cut, he began to watch them; this was about the end of May, and he soon had the satisfaction of frequently witnessing the little artisans at work in collecting sections of leaves for their nests. During this season he made an immense number of observations, from which we select the following general remarks:

When a bee arrives at a rose-bush, it generally hovers over it for some seconds, as if to select a leaf. In the very act of alighting she seizes it between her mandibles and begins to cut, not ceasing until the whole piece is detached. As the piece is cut, the bee bends it between her legs, and, when in the act of separating it from the leaf, she vibrates her wings; then, giving the final cut, she falls through a few inches, recovers herself, and flies merrily away. The facility and precision with which she cuts the different pieces-the oval, the semi-oval, and the circularvarying their size according to circumstances, are truly wonderful; without any guide but the instinct with which the Almighty has furnished her, she cuts out geometric figures in a position which one would think most disadvantageous to correct workmanship. Without rule or measure, and even without seeing the line along which she cuts, she is able to tell, at a dis

tance from her nest, the exact size of the little circular lids to her honey-pots, and also to adjust the varying dimensions of the oval pieces for the cells, and for their common envelope.

But, before the little insect begins to form her nest, she must excavate a tunnel in the earth for its reception. This is a work of great labor, in which she is entirely unassisted, (the male taking no part in the concerns of the household :) she has to dig and to remove much loose earth before a nicely-rounded cylinder is completed. proper to mold the leaves to the necessary degree of curvature. This being done, M. Réaumur supposed her proceedings to go on in the following order: she first lines the tunnel with leaves, which, in fact, form the outer case or envelope of the pile of cells already noticed. Entering the tunnel with the piece folded between her legs, she spreads it out, pressing it carefully against the sides; she repeats this process many times, always using large oval pieces, until a very compact lining is formed. She then proceeds to construct the first cell at the bottom of this tube, and, having completed it, goes out to collect the nectar of flowers, covering herself at the same time with pollen: she elaborates the one in her stomach into honey, and disgorging it into the cell, mixes the other with it, thus forming her bee-bread. She next deposits an egg, and then once more visits the tree to cut out a disk of leaf, with which she stops up the cell. This cell being completed, and not before, a second is begun and finished in like manner, then a third, and so on until the whole is finished.

Although a great number of bees flew away every day with their segments of leaves, M. Réaumur had not as yet succeeded in tracing the locality of any one nest.

Were he to follow a bee to her home he would not be able, it is true, to watch her proceedings in her dark abode ; yet, by examining the nest when about half finished, some new circumstances might be developed tending to confirm the view taken of the course of the insect's proceedings in constructing her nest.

M. Réaumur was one day at Charenton, watching, with the patience of a naturalist, a bee excavating a tunnel for her nest, when, happening to raise his eyes to the surface of a terrace near him, he saw something green disappear in a crack between two badly-joined stones. On cau

tiously approaching the spot, he saw fly out therefrom a bee of a larger size than the rose-leaf cutters. She flew to a young chestnut-tree, ten or twelve feet off, and cut out a large oval piece, with which she returned. She was soon out again for another piece, and in less than half an hour had made more than twelve excursions, returning laden each time.

As none of the pieces which the bees had cut were circular, M. Réaumur judged that the nest was only just begun, and that no cell was yet finished. He therefore determined to examine the work, to see if an outer case or envelope was really made first, as he supposed. The stones (below one of which the nest was situated) were covered with a grassy turf some inches thick, which being removed, he gently disengaged one of the stones, choosing for the purpose the moment when the bee had quitted the nest, after having remarked that her journeys occupied more and more time. As soon as the stone was removed, the pieces of leaf were seen rolled up into a sort of tube, which immediately sprung open when relieved from pressure, because, not having had time to dry, they still retained their natural elasticity. It was, however, perfectly evident, that nothing but the outer case or envelope of the nest was as yet prepared. M. Réaumur put everything in order as well as he could, removed some of the loose earth which had fallen among the leaf-cuttings, and carefully replaced the stone. He had not time to replace the turf when the bee arrived: she had no sooner entered her nest than she darted out, doubtless in alarm and amazement at the disorder and confusion in which she found her household. Soon, however, she took courage, and returned; and began to repair the damage, removing the loose earth by pushing it out with her hind legs. M. Réaumur watched her till eight o'clock in the evening, when he was obliged to return to Paris.

At the end of two days he returned to Charenton, expressly to see how the little architect was getting on with her nest. He arrived at about five o'clock in the evening, and saw her enter the chink without carrying any leaf; he therefore thought it probable she was bringing in a supply of bee-bread. After she had gone out and returned two or three times without conveying any leaf, M. Réaumur removed the stone, and found the nest now

to consist of a tube nearly five inches in length. The leaves did not burst open as on the former occasion, for they had taken in drying a permanent bend. On introducing a straw at the open end, it penetrated only to the third of its length, the remaining two-thirds being evidently occupied with cells. The stone was again carefully readjusted; but the bee, on returning, was evidently aware that all was not quite right, for she flew out in evident alarm; gradually, however, she took courage, and returned to her nest, which in due time was filled with the usual number of cells.

Such is the history of the leaf-cutter bee, for the knowledge of which we are indebted, first, to the simplicity of the gardener of Andelis; next, to the enlightened and benevolent Abbé Nollet; and lastly, to the genius and skill of M. Réaumur; and it is highly creditable to this naturalist to be able to state, that he made this history so complete, that little or nothing has been added to it. Mr. Newport has recorded a curious fact of one of these bees, which, being about to construct her nest in a brick wall, and finding the hole uneven, first carefully lined it with cotton, thus proving that the insect can vary its proceedings according to circumstances. It may also be stated that the grub is quite white; that its cocoon consists of a thick solid silk, attached to the sides of the cell. The exterior of the cocoon is of a coffeebrown color, but the interior is a fine whitish silk, smooth and lustrous, like satin; so that, should the leaves become damp, and decay, the cocoons afford a warm and dry abode, in which the insect, in one of its states of worm, nymph, or perfect fly, passes the whole of the winter.

[For the National Magazine.]
SONNET.

66 HE OF THE SWORD AND PEN." ABOVE thy golden vase I bent of late,

Of fair Erminia's flight, Clorinda's fate;
And read of bright Sophronia's lover young,

And over Godfrey's deeds entranced I hung, And Tancred's told in soft Italia's tongue. Thou who didst tune the harp for Salem's shrine,

Thou the renown'd and gifted among men"Tasso," superior with the sword and pen! O, Poet heir! vain was the gift divine

To still the unrest of thy human heart; Lonely and cold did Glory's starbeams shine

For him who saw a lovelier light depart! O! Master of the Lyre! did not thy touch Tell how the heart may break, that love has troubled much. E. J. EAMES.

[For the National Magazine.]

DISCOVERY AND EXPLORATIONS OF THE MISSISSIPPI VALLEY.

THE

BY AN OLD PIONEER.

HE "Great River" that drains this central valley is one of the physical wonders of the world. Its discovery and exploration by Europeans were among the romantic adventures of a heroic age.

It is now known to those who have investigated the subject, that De Soto was not the first Spaniard, nor Joliet and Marquette the first Frenchmen, who reached the waters of the Mississippi. Bancroft, Theodore Irving, Monette, M'Coloch, and several other writers, have put De Soto's expedition in an English dress. Professor John G. Shea, in his recent work, Discovery and Exploration of the Mississippi Valley, with the original Narratives of Marquette, Allouez, Membré, Hennepin, and Anastase Douay, has lifted the curtain, and exhibited, in the common tongue, the French Missionary explorations of the north-west, and down the great river and its tributaries. We propose giving to the readers of the National Magazine an outline of the facts and incidents of these explorations, drawn from these and other authentic sources, and from the original documents.

Every school-boy knows that Christopher Columbus entered the Gulf of Mexico, but it was along its southern border. Who first visited the northern shore is not positively known. Juan Ponce de Leon, an old comrade of Columbus, sailed along the coast on Easter Sunday, which the Spaniards called Pascua Florida. He was on the coast near San Augustine in 1512; and in honor of the day, and because the trees were covered with blossoms, he gave the name of Florida to the newly discovered country; which for a long time, by the Spaniards, included the continent of North America.

Ponce de Leon was in search of gold and the "fountain of life," which previous visitors reported to exist in the forests of North America. This fountain was said to have the power of rejuvenating those who drank or bathed in its salubrious waters.

Don Diego Miruelo, a roving sea-captain, visited the coast in 1516, and obtained gold in barter for goods with the natives,

and on his return spread the most extravagant stories of the wealth of the interior.

Grijalva, who commanded a fleet, explored the coast of Yucatan and the westtern part of the Gulf, to Panuco, now Tampico. In 1518, Francisco Garay, Governor of Jamaica, explored the northern coast from the Tortugas to Tampico. A voyage, for slaves to work the mines, under Vasquez de Ayllon, in two ships, from St. Domingo, passed from the Bahama Islands to the coast of South Carolina, and entered the Combahee River, which they called the Jordan. Enticing a large number of the natives on board their ships, by gifts and hospitable treatment, they immediately weighed anchor while the decks were covered with the unsuspicious Indians; the sails were unfurled, and their course directed toward St. Domingo. This crime was unprofitable. Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.” One of the ships foundered at sea, and all on board perished; while a mortal sickness carried off a large proportion of the captives and crew of the other.

66

A map was drawn up in 1521, by the arbitrator appointed to decide between the claims of rival discoverers, on which the Mississippi River was traced; and the name it subsequently bore, "Rio del Espiritu Santo," (River of the Holy Ghost,) given to it.

He

Pamphilius de Narvaez undertook the conquest and colonization of the northern coast of the Gulf of Mexico in 1528. landed a force of five or six hundred men at Tampa Bay, (then called the Bay of Espiritu Santo,) made long and fruitless marches, from tribe to tribe, during six months; the gold he inquired after always retreating as his army advanced. Disease and famine swept off a large part of his army, and after long and fruitless marches, through swamps and across rivers, he reached the coast, and attempted a voyage to Tampico, in frail boats constructed by his men. Storms interrupted their passage, many of the boats were lost, and the bones of his men were left to bleach on the shore. A small remnant only reached Tampico to tell the tale of their disasters.

A small party of his men, under command of Cabeza de Vaca, were thrown on an island near the coast of Florida, and were taken and held prisoners by Indians. De Vaca and four companions, including