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No speck was in the sky,--00 little cloud
That promised rain; no shadowy grove, no green
For the tired eye to rest on. Onward still
The weary soldier marcb'd, and often raised
His mailed hand to Heaven in silent prayer,
And pointed to the blessed Cross he hore
Upon his bosom-and his prayer was heard;
For from some mountain eliff at length arose
The sound of running water; what a bound
Was then in every heart, and what a cry
Of joy, as from its parent source, clothed round
In lovely green, and clear, cold rivulet
Gushed sparkling in the sun! an angel's voice
Could noi have sweeter been. Thep down they sat
And doft their helms, and bathed their burning brows;
And from their beavy armour cleared away
The sharp, dry, desert sand; then pitched the tents,
And spread their frugal fare. No sounds were heard
But those of mirth; here on the grassy turf
The careless warriors lay, and oft between
Rose the sweet song of their own dative land;
Even sweeter, because heard in foreign clime;
For nought like music has the magic power
To bring the shades of long forgotten joys
Back to the weeping memory: softer grew
The soldier's heart, and piety and love .
Led all their thoughts to home; then silence sunk
Upon the camp, and every warrior breath'd
His evening orisons, and slept in peace
Ere yet the sun with his earliest beam
Purpled the east, the Christian army rose,
Renewed in strength and hope; deep gratitude
Beamed in each countenance, as the leaders came
Forth from their tents, beneath the cool clear air,
To fit their armour on; each youthful squire
Smiled to his master; as he clasped the helm
Or fixt the spur, or backed the impatient steed,
And told how soon he hoped to gain renown
And knigbthood in the breach of Antioch.
Thus marched they on in joy, and gained at last
The barren ridge of Amanus, which divides
With rocky girdle the Cilician waste
From the fair field of Syria, all behind,
Lay a drear desert, but before them spread
In rich expansion, that delightful vale
Through which Orontes rolled his sable wave.

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" This globe may be considered as a Museum furnished with the works of the great Creator."... Linnceus.

IT may with truth be asserted, that if pure and rational happiness is to be found on earth, except in the temples of religion and the practice of benevolence, it is in the love of nature. The eulogium pronounced by Cicero on the pleasures of literature, in bis oration for the poet Archias, is equally applicable to the calm and elegant satis. faction which a well directed inind continually derives from the beauty, magnificence, order, and regularity dis

verable in the whole creation. "Such studies,” said he, “ are not only suited to every time, to every age, to every place, but they give joy in old age, and strength in youth, adorn prosperity, and are the comfort and consolation of adversity: at home they are delightful, abroad they are easy : thus when we travel they attend us; and in retirement they never leave us.” .

Your attention, my friend, has lately been directed to the wonderful formation of the root and stem. We will continue our investigations ou secreted fluids. Nothing is more astonishing than the production of flinty earthis in vegetable bodies. A substance is found in the hollow stem of the Bamboo aruudo. Bamboo of Linnæus, called Tabasheer; which is supposed in the East Iodies to be endowed with extraordinvry qualities, like the imaginary stone which Shakspeare has so beautifully eulogized, as similar in its virtues to the benefits derived from adversity.

Some of this substance underwent a chemical examination, and proved as near as possible, pure earth. It is even found occasionally in the Bamboo cultivated in our hot-bouses. A similar discovery has also been made by Sir Humphrey Davy in the euticle of various plants, of the family of grasses, in the cane, a kind of palm, and the rough horse-tail Equisetum, hyemale. In the latter it is very copions, and so disposed as to make a natural file, which renders this plant useful in various manufacturés, for even brass cannot resist its action. Common wheat straw when burnt, is found to contain a portion of finty earth in the form of a 'most exquisite powder; and this accounts for the utility of burnt straw in giving the last polish to marble. “How great,” says Sir James Smith, in his valuable Introduction to Botany, “is the contrast between this production, if it be a secretion of the tender vegetable frame, and those exhalations which constitute the perfume of flowers! One is among the most permanent substances in nature, an ingredient in the primeval mountains of the globe; the other the invisible, untangible breath of a moment.

“How delightful and fragrant is this breath, when in a calm summer moroing or evening, the air is perfumed with the sweet scent of the rose and honeysuckle. The aromatic smell which is observable in pive groves at noon during the heat of the summer months, is also pecu agreeable, as well as that of new mown hay. Many associations are connected with them, and they bring before the mental eye scenes of pastoral simplicity, brighter skjes, and more luxuriant shades. It would not perhaps be easy to define the sensible delight which perfumes in general administer. They are grateful to the living, and poets have imagined that they are even delightful to the dead. A Persian poet has celebrated in the following pleasing stanza the odoriferous ringlets of his mistress. «Should the gentle breezes that play around my tomb waft rich odours from the hair of my love, the perfume would recal me to life again, and render me vocal in her praise.” The burning of perfumes in ancient times was confined in this country to the great, and a lamp with odours suspended in the sleeping room considered as a peculiar mark of royal favour.' The followiug lines from the poems of an ancient minstrel, particularly notice the fondness of our ancestors for perfumes. It is supposed to be addressed by a monarch to bjs daughter, who was plunged, in consequence of her attachment to a “ squire of lowe degree," into the deepest melancholy, and after presenting a picture of the amusements which he designed to procure her, concludes in the following manner.

" When you are laid in bed so soft,
A cage of gold shall hang aloft,
With long pepper tair burning,
And cloves that be sweet smelling,
Frankincense and olibanum,
That when ye sleep the taste may come,
And if ye no rest can take

All night, minstrels for you shall wake.” Many flowers which are scentless in the day, emit a powerful fragrance as soon as the evening draws in ; and this peculiar property does not appear at all dependant on the state of the atmosphere. Such is the case with those which Livnæus has elegantly termed fores tristes, melancholy flowers, belonging to various dissimilar tribes agrecing only in the dusky colour of their petals, and the exquisite nature of their scents. Some of the most conspicuous of foreign growth are the Mesembryanthemum noctiflorum, Cheiranthus tristis, Daphne pontica, Crassula odoratissima. The Epidendrum ensifolium, and Chloranthus inconspicuus, are of this description, and emit a delightful fragrance, similar to the lemon. They are noticed as being great favourites of the Chinese, and form conspicuous ornaments in their public festivals.

“Earth, yield me roots.
Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
With thy most operant peison.“

Shakspeare.

POSTHUMOUS GRIEF. PHILIPS, in his Pastorals, makes shepherdesses tear their hair and beat their breasts at their own deaths:

Ye brighter maids, faint emblems of my fair,
With looks cast down, and with dishevell’d bair,
In bitter anguish beat your breasts, and moan
Her death untimely, as it were your own.

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