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the inclination of the Moon's orbit, and the obliquity of the ecliptic. The number of stars ascertained to be variable is fifteen, and those suspected to be so, thirty-seven: the most remarkable of the former


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Varying Magnitude. Period of Variation.

d. h. m. Algol in Perseus

2d to 4th 2 20 40 50 B Lyræ

3 to 4.5 6 9'00 m Antinoi

3 to 4.5 7 4 15 0 A Star in Sobieski's shield . 5 to 7.8

62 days. & Cephei is subject to a periodic variation of 5 days, 8 hrs. 37 min. 30 sec. in the following order:-It continues at its greatest brightness about 1 day, 13 hrs.; it gradually declines in 1 day, 18 hrs.; is at its greatest obscuration about 1 day, 12 hrs.; and increases in 13 hrs.: its maximum and minimum of brightness is that between the third and fourth, and between the fourth and fifth magnitudes.

In the years 1783, 1784, 1785, Pollux in Gemini was observed to be considerably brighter than Castor; in Flamstead's time, the reverse was the case, he making Castor of the first, and Pollux of the second magnitude.

On these mysterious points (the appearance and disappearance of some stars, and the gradual decrease and augmentation of light in others) it is highly probable, that not only the present age, but future generations, will continue to remain in obscurity: every particular connected with the fixed stars so nearly approaches to infinity, that nothing short of Infinite Wisdom can direct the intellectual powers in the development of its sublimities.

To this subject the following beautiful lines afford an appropriate conclasion :

The Lost Star: by L. E. L.
A light is gone from yonder sky,

A star has left its sphere ;
T'he beautiful-and do they die

In yon bright world, as here?

Will that star leave a lonely place,

A darkness on the night?
No: few will miss its lovely face,

And none think heaven less bright!
What wert thou star of, vanished one?

What mystery was thine? Thy beauty from the east is

gone: What was thy sway and sign? Wert thou the star of opening youth?

And is it, then, for thee,
Its frank glad thoughts, its stainless truth,

So early cease to be?
Of hope ?-and was it to express

How soon hope sinks in shade ?
Or else of human loveliness,

In sign how it will fade?
How was thy dying like the song,

In music to the last,
An echo flung the winds among,

And then for ever past?
Or didst thou sink as stars whose light

The fair moon renders vain ?
The rest shine forth the next dark night,-

Thou didst not shine again.
Didst thou fade gradual from the time

The first great curse was hurled,
Till, lost in sorrow and in crime,

Star of our early world?
Forgotten and departed star!

A thousand glories shine
Round the blue midnight's regal car,

Who then remembers thine?
Save when some mournful bard, like me,

Dreams over beauty gone,
And in the fate that waited thee,
Reads what will be his own.

Literary Souvenir, 1828.

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The Naturalist's Diary

For JULY 1829.

Receded hills afar of softened blue,
Tall bowering trees, through which the sunbeams shoot
Down to the viewless lake, birds never mute,
And wild-flowers all around of every hue !
Sure, 'tis a lovely scene. There, knee-deep, stand,
Safe from the fierce sun, the o'ershadowed kine;
And, to the left, where cultured fields expand,
Mid tufts of scented thorn, the sheep recline:
Lone quiet farmsteads, haunts that ever please,-
Oh, how inviting to the wanderer's eye
Ye rise on yonder uplands, mid your trees
Of shade and shelter! Every sound from these
Is eloquent of peace, of earth, and sky,
And pastoral beauty, and Arcadian ease.

Blackmood's Magazine. This delightful view of rural scenery, painted by the hand of a master (our friend and correspondent Delta), admirably depicts much of the scenery of this, generally, agreeable month. How pleasant is the morning ramble at this season, before the great heats begin ! how grand a spectacle is the uprising of the King of Day! but how few know any thing of his splendour, but in the description of the poets. Let us not, then, consume in sleep those hours which might have been usefully devoted to study or recreation,-to an acquaintance with the beauties and wonders of Nature.

Awake thee, my lady-love!

Wake thee, and rise!
The sun through the bower peeps

Into thine eyes!
Behold how the early lark

Springs from the corn!
Hark, hark, how the flower-bird

Winds her wee horu!
The swallow's glad shriek is heard

All through the air;
The stock-dove is murmuring

Loud as she dare !

Apollo's winged bugleman

Cannot contain,
But peals his loud trumpet-call

Once and again.
Then wake thee, my lady-love !

Bird of my bower!
The sweetest and sleepiest

Bird at this hour!


The Wakening

[ By Felicia Hemans. ]
How many thousands are wakening now!
Some to the songs from the forest-bough,
To the rustling of leaves at the lattice-pane,
To the chiming fall of the early rain.
And some, far out on the deep mid-sea,
To the dash of the waves in their foaming glee,
As they break into spray on the ship's tall side,
That holds through the tumult her path of pride.
And some-oh! well may their hearts rejoice-
To the gentle sound of a mother's voice;
Long shall they yearn for that kindly tone,
When from the board and the earth 'tis gone.
And some in the camp, to the bugle's breath,
And the tramp of the steed on the echoing heath,
And the sadden roar of the hostile gun,
Wbich tells that a field must ere night be won.
And some, in the gloomy convict-cell,
To the dull deep note of the warning-bell,
As it heavily calls them forth to die,
While the bright sun mounts in the laughing sky.
And some to the peal of the hunter's horn,
And some to the sounds from the city borne ;
And some to the rolling of torrent-floods,
Far 'midst old mountains and solemn woods.
So are we roused on this chequered earth,
Each unto light bath a daily birth,
Though fearful or joyous, though sad or sweet,
Be the voices which first our upspringing meet.
But One must the sound be, and One the call,
Which from the dust shall awake us all!
One, though to severed and distant dooms-
How shall the sleepers arise from their tombs?

Amulet for 1828

All is vigour and activity in the vegetable kingdom in this month, and the most patient observer of Nature is almost bewildered by the countless profusion of interesting objects. The garden affords many gay inmates, as lilies, pinks, carnations; and marigolds, and poppies of various colours, which are now in blossom. Speedwell (Veronica) is in perfection. Towards the middle of the month, the spiked willow, hyssop, and the bell-flower (Campanula), have their flowers full blown. The virginian sumach now exhibits its scarlet tufts of flowers upon its bright green circles of leaves. The berries of the mountain ash turn red. Lavender and jessamine are now in blossom.

The scarlet lychnis is in bloom, and, with its rich coronets of flowers growing on a tall slender stem, adds greatly to the beauty of the garden. Among the flowers of summer, we must not forget to mention the evening primrose (Ænothera biennis). This plant bears its primrose-coloured flowers on branches of three or four feet in height, and hence it is called the tree-primrose, or evening star, because the flowers regularly burst open and expand in the evening, between six and seven o'clock.

The Dial of Flowers.

[By Mrs. Hemans.!
'Twas a lovely thought to mark the hours,

As they floated in light away,
By the opening and the folding flowers

That laugh to the suminer's day.
Thus bad each moment its own rich hue,

And its graceful cup or bell,
In whose coloured vase might sleep the dew

Like a pearl in au ocean-shell.
To such sweet signs might the time bave flowed

In a golden current on,
Ere from the garden, man's first abodé,

The glorious guests were gone.

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