through the infinite spaces, with a velocity compared with which the cannon ball is a way-worn, heavy-paced trav eller.

3. Much, however, as we are indebted to our observatories' for elevating our conceptions of the heavenly bodies, they present, even to the unaided sight, scenes of glory which words are too feeble to describe. I had occasion, a few weeks since, to take the early train from Providence to Boston, and for this purpose rose at two o'clock in the morning.

4. Every thing around was wrapped in darkness and hushed in silence, broken only by what seemed at that hour the unearthly clank and rush of the train. It was a mild, serene, midsummer's night; the sky was without a cloud; the winds were whist. The moon, then in the last quarter, had just risen, and the stars shone with a spectral lustre but little affected by her presence. Jupiter, two hours high, was the herald of the day; the Pleiades,* just above the horizon, shed their sweet influence in the east; Lyrat sparkled near the zenith; Andromeda veiled her newly-discovered glories from the naked eye in the south; the steady Pointers' far beneath the pole, looked meekly up from the depths of the north to their sovereign.

5. Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the train. As we proceeded, the timid approach of twilight became more perceptible; the intense blue of the sky began to soften; the smaller stars, like little children, went first to rest; the sister-beams of the Pleiades soon melted together; but the bright constellations of the west and north remained unchanged. Steadily the wondrous transfiguration went on. Hands of angels, hidden from mortal eyes, shifted the scenery of the heavens; the glories of night dissolved into the glories of the dawn.

6. The blue sky now turned more softly gray; the † LY'RA.

*PLE'IA-DES (plʊ'ya dēz).

AN DROME-DA

great watch-stars shut up their holy eyes; the east began to kindle. Faint streaks of purple soon blushed along the sky; the whole celestial concave' was filled with the inflowing tides of the morning light, which came pouring down from above in one great ocean of radiance; till at length, as we reached the Blue Hills, a flash of purple fire blazed out from above the horizon, and turned the dewy tear-drops of flower and leaf into rubies and diamonds. In a few seconds, the everlasting gates of the morning were thrown wide open, and the lord of day, arrayed in glories too severe for the gaze of man, began his course.

7. I do not wonder at the superstition of the ancient Magians, who in the morning of the world went up to the hill-tops of Central Asia, and, ignorant of the true God, adored the most glorious work of his hand. But I am filled with amazement, when I am told that in this enlightened age, and in the heart of the Christian world, there are persons who can witness this daily manifestation of the power and wisdom of the Creator, and yet say in their hearts, "There is no God."

Change of

form; transformation.

CŎN'ØĀVE. A hollow without an

ways point in nearly a right line with the north star.

5 CON-STEL-LA'TION.

fixed stars.

3 QB-SERV'A-TO-RIES. Places or build-6 TRĂNS-FIG-U-RÃ'TION.

ings for making observations on the heavenly bodies.

4 PÖIN'TERS. Two stars in the constellation Ursa Major, which al

gles, as the inner surface of a bowl or sphere.

LXXVI. EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN.

WILLIAM EDMONDSTOUNE AYTOUN.

[William Edmondstoune Aytoun was born in Scotland, in 1813, and died Au gust 4, 1865. In 1845 he was elected to the professorship of rhetoric and belleslettres in the University of Edinburgh, which he held till the time of his death. The battle of Flodden was fought in the year 1513, between the Scotch army under King James IV., and the English, commanded by the Earl of Surrey. The defeat of the Scotch was most disastrous. Their king was killed, and the greater part of their army destroyed. The loss of life among the gentry was especially severe, so that there was hardly a noble family in the kingdom that was not thrown into mourning.]

1. NEWS of battle!-news of battle!
Hark! 'tis ringing down the street:
And the archways and the pavement
Bear the clang of hurrying feet.
News of battle! - who hath brought it?
News of triumph!- who should bring
Tidings from our noble army,

Greetings from our gallant King?

2. All last night we watched the beacons'
Blazing on the hills afar,

Each one bearing, as it kindled,
Message of the opened war.

All night long the northern streamers
Shot across the trembling sky:
Fearful lights, that never beckon
Save when kings or heroes die.

8. News of battle! who hath brought it?
All are thronging to the gate;
"Warder-warder! open quickly!

Man-is this a time to wait?"

And the heavy gates are opened:

Then a murmur long and loud,

And a cry of fear and wonder

Bursts from out the bending crowd.

For they see in battered harness
Only one hard-stricken man;
And his weary steed is wounded,
And his cheek is pale and wan:
Spearless hangs a bloody banner
In his weak and drooping hand
What! can that be Randolph Murray,
Captain of the city band?

4. Round him crush the people, crying, "Tell us all — O, tell us true!

Where are they who went to battle,
Randolph Murray, sworn to you?

Where are they, our brothers children?

Have they met the English foe?
Why art thou alone, unfollowed?
Is it weal or is it woe?"

5. Like a corpse the grisly warrior

Looks from out his helm of steel;
But no word he speaks in answer
Only with his arméd heel
Chides his weary steed, and onward
Up the city streets they ride;
Fathers, sisters, mothers, children,
Shrieking, praying by his side.
"By the God that made thee, Randolph!
Tell us what mischance hath come."

Then he lifts his riven banner,

And the asker's voice is dumb.

The men whom good King James had charged
To watch the tower and wall.

"Your hands are weak with age," he said,

"Your hearts are stout and true;

So bide ye in the Maiden Town,*
While others fight for you.
My trumpet from the Border-side
Shall send a blast so clear,
That all who wait within the gate
That stirring sound may hear.

7. Or, if it be the will of Heaven
That back I never come,

And if, instead of Scottish shouts,

Ye hear the English drum,

Then let the warning bells ring out,

Then gird you to the fray,

Then man the walls like burghers' stout,
And fight while fight you may.
"Twere better that in fiery flame

The roof should thunder down,
Than that the foot of foreign foe
Should trample in the town!"

8. Then in came Randolph Murray,-
His step was slow and weak,
And as he doffed his dinted helm,
The tears ran down his cheek:
They fell upon his corselet",
And on his mailéd hand,
As he gazed around him wistfully,
Leaning sorely on his brand".

9. And none who then beheld him

But straight were smote with fear,
For a bolder and a sterner man

Had never couched a spear.

* Edinburgh.