passionate prayer for them: "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." (Luke xxiii. 34.)

POETRY.

"GOODLY PEARLS."

THROUGH the wild desert roaming,
Beneath a torrid sky;

Where stretcheth far and wide
The burning, billowy tide

In heartless mockery;

There, where the simoon sweeps with blasting breath,
A wanderer kneeleth face to face with death.

What doth he there?

The light

On his pale brow is fading;
Wearied, and parched, and faint,
He murmureth no complaint,

Yet pineth for the' o'ershading

Of the bright lindens o'er his far home bending,
For the loved voices in sweet strains ascending.

He had gone forth in pride

From that far home of love;
And hearts that turn'd with gladness
Erewhile to him, in sadness

Wept for the parted one :

Alone, in anguish, in the desert dying,

Woe to the heart that watch'd its pearls with life swift flying!

A poet sat in thought,

On a mountain's fir-crown'd brow;

Bright hopes within him burn'd,

His lofty spirit yearn'd

Earth's myriad hearts to bow ;—

And kindling eye and flushing cheek reveal'd
The full clear current of his soul unseal'd.

Brightly that flashing eye

O'er the green earth's beauty stray'd;
Rock, fount, and quiv'ring tree,
Glad waters' melody,

And rocky height and glade,

To his rapt spirit spake in treasured lore :-
Would they had won that spirit to adore!

Yet no! the laurel crown'd

That pale and radiant brow;
And a thousand hearts were stirr'd,
As his lyre's full notes were heard
Exultingly to flow:-

His "goodly pearls" he clasp'd in earthly fame,
Woe to the spirit shorn of all save mortal name!

A mother gazed in love

On a fair young brow and mild;
She had watch'd his cradle rest,

She had clasp'd him to her breast,
Her cherish'd, firstborn child.

Her heart had bow'd alone at love's fair shrine,
Nor sought one offering for the throne Divine.

He saw it, who had given

That treasure to her breast,

A holy gift to bring

To Him in offering,

With her heart's love-its best!

And gently as a Father did He win

That treasured "pearl" to realms unstain'd by sin.

A lowly spirit knelt

At Mercy's hallow'd throne,

With upward gaze adoring,

To heaven in faith upsoaring,

Heaven to his soul brought down!

In trusting love on covenant-blood relying,

His was the "pearl of price!" the bliss untold, undying!

Ashbourne.

ADELINE.

ANIMATED AND VEGETABLE NATURE.

JULY.

"Now comes July, and with his fervid noon
Unsinewy labour. The swinkt mower sleeps;
The weary maid rakes feebly; the warm swain
Pitches his load reluctant; the faint steer,
Lashing his sides, draws sulkily along

The slow, encumber'd wain in midday heat."

THE Dog-star is said to reign through the dog-days, from the 3d day of this month to the 11th of August, and summer-heat prevails. The woods are silent. The nightingale withholds her song, and the cuckoo's note is no longer heard. At noontide man and beast seek the shade; and when the burning sun sinks towards the horizon, they come forth again, to enjoy the still, serene, cool twilight. Over the

parched earth, exhausted of moisture, a watery load floats invisibly in the atmosphere, until the surcharged air, under some sudden change of temperature, deposits the flood. It is condensed into cloud; and the cloud, in its turn, overcharged with the electric fluid, emits the lightning with pealing thunder, pours down the rain in torrents, and often the wind adds its violence, and the tempest bursting on a half-ripe harvest, lays it prostrate, to ripen and to be reaped with loss. Harmless fulgurations, also, were used to dance over the once ill-drained marshlands,-harmless in themselves, yet the ignis fatuus proverbially deceptive, a fit image of the fallacious visions that mislead the unwary, when the daylight of common sense has left them.

Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends,
Hovering and blazing with delusive light,

Misleads the' amazed night-wanderer from his way
To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool,
There swallow'd up and lost, from succour far."

As July advances the orchards grow heavier with full-grown fruits, and the birds, in stealthy broods, light upon the bending boughs, and feast away in spite of guns and rattles. The cottages

are emptied of tenants, and all busy hands are gathering in currants, strawberries, cherries, apricots, and peaches. The grass is cut and carried, and the bare field indicates the approach of Autumn even before Summer has attained maturity. The solstitial flowers are passing away, and the æstival plants begin to blow. Here are fields of dahlia unfolded for the market, and the musk-flower, and musk-mallow, the field-mallow, the marsh-thistle, the evening primrose, and the damask rose, flourish among the later glories of the summer; and their fading predecessors premonish us of the decline that awaits all else that blooms.

River-fishing is now in perfection, and the angler delights himself on the umbrageous bank, hooking up trout, perch, dace, chub, bleak, or gudgeon. Along the coasts the mackerel-fishing is in full activity; and off the Cornish cliffs, the miner, having left the veins of tin and copper, takes to the sea for the time, and helps the fishermen to intercept shoals of pilchards innumerable; while the hungry sea-gulls lie on the waves like snow, or wheel in living clouds over the beach, now thronged with people preparing the fish in heaps for winter store.

The fifteenth day of this month is called St. Swithin's day, and is notable as it marks the probable commencement of a period when the moisture of the season tempers its warmth, and the combination of both quickens the processes of vegetation.

"In this month is St. Swithin's day,

On which if that it rain, they say

Full forty days after it will,

Or more or less, some rain distil.

This Swithin was a saint, I trow,
And Winchester's Bishop also,
Who in his time did many a feat,
As Popish legends do repeat.
A woman having broke her eggs,
By stumbling at another's legs,
For which she made a woful cry,
St. Swithin chanced for to come by;
Who made them all as sound, or more
Than ever that they were before.
Better it is to rise by time,

And to make hay when the sun do shine,
Than to believe in tales and lies,
Which idle Monks and Friars devise."

an

MERCURY, in the constellations Gemini, Cancer, and Leo, is evening star throughout the month. On the 11th, at 11h. 32m., A.M., in conjunction with Venus, at 5h. 44m., S.; on the 26th at 11h. 39m., A.M., in conjunction with a Leonis, (Regulus,) at 0° 2′ N. VENUS, in the constellations Cancer and Gemini, is an evening star till the 11th, invisible till the 27th, and then a morning star. On the 21st, at 9h. 0m., A.M., in inferior conjunction with the Sun; on the 28th, at 3h. 8m., A.M., in aphelion. MARS, in the constellations Leo and Virgo, is an evening star throughout the month; on the 21st, at 9h. Om., A.M., in inferior conjunction with the Sun. JUPITER, in the constellation Libra, on the 10th, at 10h. 20m., P.M., stationary; on the 15th passes the meridian at 7h. 10m., P. M.; and sets at 11h. 48m. SATURN, in the constellation Aries, on the 15th passes the meridian at 7h. 24m., A.M. URANUS, in the constellation Aries, on the 15th passes the meridian at 6h. 51m., A.M.; on the 31st, at 2h. 5m., P.M., in quadrature with the Sun.

H. T. & J. Roche, Printers, 25, Hoxton-square, London.