minutes after eight: figure 2 represents the Moon at the time of the middle of the eclipse, namely, at twenty-seven minutes past nine and figure 3 shows the appearance of the Moon at ten minutes after ten. These diagrams will answer for any part of the kingdom by allowing for the difference of time arising from longitude:-thus, for York subtract five minutes from the time for Greenwich; for Lancaster and Penrith subtract eleven minutes; and for Dover add five minutes. From the heights of this latter place the scene will be magnificent: the Moon, at the commencement of the eclipse, will scatter her rays on the ocean in the direction of Calais: and in consequence of the revolution of the Earth, the eclipsed luminary will seem to move westward, illuming the silvery waves as she glides along; and soon after the termination of the eclipse she will bring up high water to the pebbly shores of this ancient and singularly situated town, and lead the observer to say, with Blackmore, "He to the silver Moon this province gave, MERCURY is visible to the naked eye in the evenings about the middle of the month, appearing a little way below the brilliant planet Venus: he will appear in the vicinity of the crescent Moon on the 17th. VENUS is increasing in splendour every evening: this beautiful star sets on the 1st at a quarter past seven; on the 15th at eight o'clock, and on the 31st at ten minutes before nine. On the 18th Venus is in the neighbourhood of the Moon. MARS appears near the south-eastern horizon at the break of day: he rises on the 1st at half-past four, and on the 28th at fifty minutes after three: on the 13th he is near the Moon. JUPITER is a splendid object in the south-western skies after sunset, and (next to Venus for brightness) appears very high in the heavens in the early part of the evening, and continues above the horizon till after midnight: he is in conjunction with the Moon on the 21st. SATURN is invisible, being obscured by the rays of the Sun. URANUS (as a telescopic object) is also invisible from the same cause. Note.-March 21st, 1762. La Caille died, aged forty-nine years. This celebrated astronomer was the son of a parish-clerk of a village. At the age of ten years his father sent him every evening to ring the church-bell, but the boy always returned home late : his father was angry, and beat him, and still the boy returned an hour after he had rung the bell. The father, suspecting something mysterious in his conduct, one evening watched him. He saw his son ascend the steeple, ring the bell as usual, and remain there during an hour. When the unlucky boy descended, he trembled like one caught in the fact, and on his knees confessed that the pleasure he took in watching the stars from the steeple was the real cause of detaining him from home. As the father was not born to be an astronomer, he flogged the boy severely. The youth was found weeping in the streets by a man of science, who, when he discovered in a boy of ten years of age a passion for contemplating the stars at night, and an intelligence that found an Observatory in a steeple, decided that the seal of nature had impressed itself on the genius of that boy. Relieving the parent from the son, and the son from the parent, he assisted the young La Caille in his passionate pursuit; and the event completely justified the prediction. March 31st, 1596. Descartes born. JUVENILE OBITUARY. DIED, at Doon, October 11th, 1841, MISS ELIZA BARWICK. From her earliest infancy she appeared to be influenced by religious impressions, and exhibited through life a pleasing example of practical morality. The instructions in divine truth which she received at the Buckland Sunday-school were likewise of great benefit to her. She remembered her Creator in the days of her youth; and, taught by the word of God, and the faithful ministry which she attended, she likewise sought to her Redeemer, and obtained the blessings which the covenant of mercy secures for the fallen children of Adam. She was quite young when she joined the Wesleyan society, and ever walked worthy of her vocation and profession. Her great desire was to be established and preserved in the grace of God. In a diary, in which she occasionally referred to her religious experience, she quotes the following verse as being the prayer of her own heart : "Give me faith to hold me up, Walking over life's rough sea: Holy, purifying hope, Still my soul's sure anchor be: In the last record found in it, she deplores the weakness of her faith; and prays that she may be enabled to cast off every weight, and the sin that easily beset her, and that she might never more grieve the Holy Spirit of God. She appears to have been one of those sincere followers of Christ who lose much of the rich consolations and joy of religion, for want of that energetic and conquering faith, which always steadily regards the great atonement, and maintains its hold of the "exceeding great and precious promises." To all sin she was fully opposed, and conscientiously forsook it. She desired to be wholly given up to God, and lamented every instance in which she came short of his holy will. And this was right. But she looked chiefly at herself, and thus fostered her natural timidity. She erred on the side of safety; but still she did err. To her exact carefulness, constant recollection of the divine goodness, and that all acceptance is through Christ alone, not depending on herself, and realized by faith, should have been added. She should have said, "But O, thou would'st not have me live Thou dost not take delight to grieve Thy will is my salvation, Lord; And let it now take place." It would be very wrong, indeed, to say that she "lived in bondage, grief, or pain;" but instead of being cast down when she discovered her own deficiency, she should have renewed her exercises of confidence in God as her reconciled Father, through Christ; coming, however humbly, yet boldly, to the throne of grace, that she might obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need. It is our privilege to rejoice evermore in God continually, as the source of all our joy, receiving the atonement in our Lord Jesus. Let conscience be tender, and at the same time let faith be strong. But even this At the commencement of her last affliction, she saw this more clearly, and was enabled to realize it. Visited on one occasion by her Class-Leader, his conversation and prayers were very useful to her. The peace and love of God were poured so abundantly into her soul, that doubts and fears all fled; and till her spirit was freed from the burden of the flesh, she continued to rejoice in God her Saviour; and this joy, so far from relaxing her watchful care, increased and strengthened it. In the course of her illness, her mind was usually very peaceful. She reposed in the goodness of God, and resigned herself to his will. Occasionally, as is frequent in similar disorders, flattering symptoms revived the hopes of recovery, and she would seem as if clinging to life. had always reference to the divine appointment. Concerning death, she once said, that she a little dreaded the unknown final struggle, but that as to her state in futurity she had no fear. She suffered considerably towards the close; but her patience and peace were undisturbed, and every attention was received with a gratitude the more delightful to those by whom they were afforded, because they saw in it a proof of her own inward happiness. There was nothing of an unquiet fretfulness, either to disturb her, or to grieve them. With the dutiful resignation of a child, she awaited the call of her heavenly Father. Even when most weak and restless, and suffering from nervous irritation,-which was very great the last few days of her life,-she said that in the midst of all she was exceedingly happy. This seemed particularly the case in her last hours. In the course of the night, her watchful attendant perceived symptoms of a very decided character. She first asked what was the state of her mind, and received the usual reply, "Quite comfortable;" and then went to awaken and call her father and sister. When they came, she herself felt that "the time was come." But there was nothing of that which she had previously dreaded. "All was calm, and joy, and peace." She requested them to pray that her Saviour would take her to heaven, and solemnly and affectionately charged them to meet her there. She could say no more to them. The sainted spirit returned to God, and only its house of clay was left on earth. Let the reader learn the lesson thus suggested: "Get wisdom, and with all thy getting, get understanding." It not only brings peace at the last, but peace all the way through. It equally prepares for life and death; making the first holy and happy, and the last, safe and joyful. SAMUEL BROWN. POETRY. BASKET OF SPECIMEN FRAGMENTS.-No. VII. (From Pollok's "Course of Time.") GOOD BOOKS AND AUTHORSHIP. NOT light and momentary labour these, And purpose stanch, and perseverance, ask'd, Composed of many thoughts, possessing each Which, having fitly shaped, and well arranged In brotherly accord, they builded up; A stately superstructure, that nor wind, Nor wave, nor shock of falling years could move; As ranks of veteran warriors in the field, A tower of strength; in massy phalanx knit, A sea of valour, dread, invincible. Books of this sort, or sacred, or profane,* Which virtue help'd, were titled, not amiss "The medicine of the mind:" who read them, read As distinct from sacred only; not in the sense of vicious. ENJOYMENT IN THE MIDST OF BOLD AND EXTENSIVE NOR is the hour of lonely walk forgot, In the wide desert, where the view was large. By hand of art, where nature sow'd herself, And reap'd her crops; whose garments were the clouds; Whose banquets, morning dews; whose heroes, storms; Whose palaces, the everlasting hills; Whose ceiling, heaven's unfathomable blue; A SCENE OF EARTH IN MILLENNIAL GLORY. MEN grew and multiplied, Perfection, which she thought a fable long. |