JUNE XXI.

BEGINNING OF SUMMER.

On this day summer begins. Many of us have often seen the changes which constantly take place at this season of the year; but have we considered why the sun continues so long above the horizon, why this is the longest day in the year, and why, from this time till the end of autumn, we perceive the heat and the length of the days diminish in the same proportion? All these changes proceed from the annual revolution of our globe round the sun. When this star enters the tropic of Cancer, the earth is so situated, that the whole of its north pole is turned towards the sun; for the earth's axis is inclined towards the north, and it invariably preserves this direction. On this inclination, and the parallelism of the earth's axis, the vicissitudes of the seasons depend. And who, that considers the consequences which would ensue if the direction of the axis had been perpendicular, will withhold his admiration and gratitude for that superior wisdom which has thus regulated it for the advantage of man?

Nature has now nearly finished her annual labour in our climate. She has already lost part of her variety; and though nothing can be more beautifully green than the vines, the orchard, and the forests, the shades begin to be less pleasing; the meadows whiten, and the flowers are cut down; the corn gradually grows yellow, and the rich colouring of nature diminishes. The diversity and brightness of this, and the varied notes of numerous birds, had lately all the charms of novelty, and cheered us with their sweet variation: but now, as autumn approaches, these enjoyments cease; the nightingale is silent, and walking is inconvenient from the excessive heat.

From this picture we may form an emblem of life, the pleasures of which are equally fugitive; even the most innocent, such as nature offers us during the spring, fade, and give place to other objects; and what we now witness in the summer of nature, we may observe in the summer of life.

As we advance in years, the pleasures which delight us in our youth no longer affect us; and when we have attained the autumn of our days, we become subject to cares and anxieties to which we formerly were strangers; as our age increases, our bodily powers diminish; till at length, after many a weary day, the period arrives when, feeble and exhausted, we have no longer a pleasure in exist

ence.

With what a lively sense of joy may the good man lift up his soul to thee, O Lord! who directest the seasons, who art the Father of all things, and the source of all happiness! Let us acknowledge thy wisdom and thy goodness in causing the seasons to succeed each other in a regular order; and may we never forget thee when we enjoy the blessings which summer scatters over the earth, and expe

rience the pleasures which smile in her train! Let us reflect that this may be the last summer which we may be permitted to see on earth; and consider how soon we may be called to join the numerous friends who have been removed from this transitory scene since the last summer's sun beamed light and beauty upon our sphere.

JUNE XXII.

THE NIGHTINGALE.

The nightingale is one of the sweetest songsters among the inhabitants of the groves. When all the birds that cheered us during the day with their varied notes cease to be heard, the song of the nightingale swells upon the air, and animates the groves. When we rapturously listen to her voice, pouring melody in the woodlands, we are ready to conclude that the bird from which such sounds proceed must be large, and possess a throat of uncommon strength; and her sweet accents make us presume that, as she excels in harmony, so she surpasses the feathered race in beauty.* But we shall look in vain for these perfections in the nightingale; which is a bird of rather a mean appearance, having nothing particularly attractive either in form or plumage; yet it is gifted by nature with a voice that fills us with ecstacy, and pours rapture through all our frame. How exquisite is our delight when we listen to her long quivering notes, and hear her sweet variations, now gently warbling, then gradually swelling into inconceivable force and rapidity; alternating plaintive accents that sooth the soul to melancholy, with gay airs that raise it upon lightsome wings to joy and pleasure: she rapidly passes from the simplest notes to the wildest carols, from the lightest turns and quavers to slow melting strains that languish upon the breeze, then softly die away, and leave the night-wanderer silently to retrace his homeward steps.

This bird may give rise to many useful reflections; from it we may learn a very wholesome truth, that plainness of person does not exclude beauty of soul, but may be allied to the rnost estimable qualities. How absurdly and erroneously do those people judge, who, fascinated by a regular contour of face, beautiful countenance, and elegant proportion of limb, only bestow their approbation upon what pleases their senses, and despise or disregard such as labour under bodily infirmities, or are not gifted by nature with the graces of per

*As to the idea of connecting beauty with melody in a bird, unless the author means that the bird which utters strains like those of the nightingale cannot be otherwise than beautiful, I believe it is not always the case; for those birds which have the most beautiful and brilliant plumage have often the most harsh and unpleasing notes; witness parrots, parroquets, peacocks, and a variety of others; and so far from our imagining the bird that enchants us with melodious strains to be large in size, we know of scarcely any large bird which has very sweet notes: if so, whence is the association of greatness of bulk and melody of voice!-E.

son. Let us learn to judge with more equity, and to discriminate with more attention; for it is not alone symmetry of limb, elegance of form, or advantages of fortune and rank, that ennoble a man, and render him worthy of esteem; it is the superior perfection of his soul, and the finer feelings of his heart, which can alone exalt his nature, and place one man higher than another in the great chain of beings. Those who are incapable of virtue, and destitute of reason, will necessarily be deluded by the false colouring of external appearance, and, unable to penetrate beneath the surface, will be dazzled by the empty parade of riches, and misled by the ostentatious display of splendid insignificance. But have we not seen men on whose humble birth fortune never smiled, nor honours distinguished, raise unto themselves eternal monuments of fame and glory? And have we not known men, whose bodies were formed in nature's coarsest mould, show a magnanimity of soul and a greatness of mind that will ever endear them to our bosoms and entwine them round our hearts? Let us then not easily trust an opinion hastily formed, and founded only upon external appearance; for often those whom we have presumed to despise are superior to ourselves, and deserving of our warmest admiration and regard.

When we listen to the sound of the nightingale, let us remember who gave it such pleasing powers; and let us consider the wisdom of a structure which enables it to produce such sweet sounds. A viscus so delicate as the lungs of this little bird, whose exertions are so violent, would be very liable to receive injuries, if it did not possess the singular advantage of being attached to the vertebræ of the back by a number of little fibres. The opening of the windpipe is very wide, and this very probably contributes to its great diversity of notes.

Sweet songster! I will not leave thee till I have learned of thee to celebrate our mutual Creator; and may thou pour, with thy wild warbling strains, joy and gratitude into the hearts of all who in these lovely evenings are revelling in the sweets of summer unconscious of their Maker!

JUNE XXIII.

THE PLEASURES WHICH SUMMER OFFERS TO OUR SENSES.

Summer has inexpressible charms, and daily gives us proofs of the infinite beneficence of God. It is the happy season in which he most abundantly pours forth his blessings upon every living creature. Nature, after having refreshed us with the pleasures of spring, is continually at work during the summer, to procure us every thing that can gratify the senses, make our subsistence comfortable, relieve our necessities, and awake in our hearts sentiments of gratitude.

We see all around us, in the fields and in the gardens, fruits, which, after having delighted us with their beauty and gratified our taste

with their sweets, may be collected and preserved for our future convenience. The flowers present us with the most agreeable variety; we admire their rich colours, and rejoice at the inexhaustible fecundity of nature, in their multiplied species. What a beautiful variety is displayed in plants, from the lowly sprig of moss to the majestic oak? Our eye glances from flower to flower: and whether we climb the steep mountain, descend into the valley, or seek the friendly shade of the woods, we every where find new beauties, all differing from one another, but each possessing charms sufficient to engage our attention. There we see innumerable flowers diffusing their sweetness to the air, that softly kisses their blushing leaves; and here various creatures sporting wild, free from care. We look up, and a clear blue sky presents itself; beneath the fresh verdure smiles: our ear is ravished with the tuneful notes of the winged songsters; their various and simple melody wraps our souls in joy, and sweet sensations fill our bosoms. The soft murmuring of the distant brook, and the silver waves of a clear smooth stream gently gliding beneath the overhanging willows, lull our souls to ease, and nought but love and pleasure dwells in our unruffled breast.

Thirsty and fatigued, the modest strawberry offers us sweet refreshment; the gardens and fields fill our granaries with their fruits, and supply us with the most agreeable sustenance. The smell is gratified with the fragrance that every where perfumes the air; and thousands of charming objects delight our senses, and call forth our sensibility. Numerous flocks and herds feed upon the bountiful profusion of nature, and furnish us with milk and nourishing aliment. Abundant showers fall to refresh the earth, and open to us new sources of blessings; smiling groves and tufted trees kindly shelter us from the sun's fervid beams; and every thing around us increases our pleasures and adds to our felicity. If the senses derive gratification from these luxuriant scenes, the mind is not less delighted. It discovers beauty, harmony, variety; and in every object traces the all-creating hand, the spring of life, and the source of all good. Yes, admirable Being! we see thee in every creature: if we contemplate the Heavens, the Sun, the Moon, and each Star inform us that thou hast made them; all that we perceive through the medium of our senses leads us to thee, and thus our sensations become dignified and exalted, whilst our thoughts soar upward, and are lost in thy infinitude.

JUNE XXIV.

SKETCH OF THE INTERNAL PARTS OF THE HUMAN BODY.

The more difficult it is to acquire a proper knowledge of the internal parts of the human body, the more necessary it is to profit by the labours of skilful anatomists. With the view of facilitating the know

ledge of those parts, I shall here present the reader with a short description of them. The structure of the heart, the great spring of life and motion, first merits our attention. This viscus, situated in the chest, is composed of muscular fibres, curiously interwoven; two cavities, called ventricles, separated from each other by a partition, form the interior of this organ. Contiguous to the heart, within the chest, are the lungs, which alternately open and shut, when they receive or expel the air, something after the manner of a pair of bellows; they nearly fill the whole cavity of the chest, which is lined with a very fine membrane called the pleura.

The abdomen is separated from the chest by a muscle called diaphragm, and contains several viscera, the most important of which is the stomach, a membranous bag, which receives and digests the food. To the right of the stomach is the liver, which secretes bile from the blood, a part of which is received into a little bag attached to the liver, and called the gall-bladder; it is conveyed from thence into the intestines, and stimulates them to action. On the opposite side, and near the stomach, is situated the spleen, a spongy viscus of an oval figure, the use of which is not rightly understood. Beneath the liver on one side, and the spleen on the other, are the kidneys, which secrete from the blood an aqueous fluid, afterward conveyed to the bladder by two excretory ducts called ureters. In the lower parts of the abdomen are situated the intestines, a long membranous tube divided into small and large. In the small part, the alimentary matter which has passed through the stomach is converted into chyle, and the portion that remains unfit for nourishment is expelled by the lower and larger division of the tube. The intestines are connected with the mesentery, a membranous duplicature, which contains numerous fine vessels, called the lacteals, as they contain the chyle or milky fluid separated from the food. There are also numerous glands in this organ, called mesenteric glands; the lacteals enter these, and from thence proceed to the thoracic duct, or the tube which conveys the chyle into the blood. The whole internal surface of the abdomen is lined with a membrane called peritoneum, which covers all the viscera; and a fatty production of which, called omentum, lies on the superior surface of the intestines.

These are the principal viscera in the abdomen and chest; but there are several others connected with them. At the beginning of the neck is the œsophagus and the trachea. The oesophagus is the tube through which the food passes from the mouth into the stomach, and the trachea is the tube through which the air passes into the lungs; a small valve at its superior orifice, whilst it admits the passage of air, prevents that of any other fluid or substance, which, by its irritation in the lungs and air vessels, would be the occasion of fatal consequences. There is a valve also placed in that orifice of the stomach which enters the intestines; it opens to suffer the food to pass, but prevents its returning.

Within the cranium or skull is situated the brain, enveloped in a very fine membrane full of blood-vessels, and called pia mater; a