Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

BRIEF ASTRONOMICAL NOTICES,

FOR SEPTEMBER, 1839.

BY MR. WILLIAM ROGERSON, Royal Observatory, Greenwich.

"How silently on her smooth axle turns

The' unwearied earth; bearing with rapid ease
Waters of mighty rivers and broad seas,

While not a drop o'erflows their brimming urns!
Nought hinder'd, when the loud volcano burns;

Alike unmoved by hurricane or breeze;

Perish her infant flowers, or aged trees,

Bent on her errand, all delay she spurns:

By night, by day, still eager to fulfil

Her task of ages, in a ceaseless round

She moves, obedient to her Maker's will.

Ah, would that man, on his brief journey bound,
So kept his course, and, spite of transient ill,
Thus unperturb'd a traveller were found!"

REV. CHARLES STRONG.

THE SUN, in consequence of the regular and uniform motion of the earth on its axis, appears to rise above our horizon in the east on the 1st at thirteen minutes past five, and to descend below the same in the west at forty-six minutes past six: he presents his orb in our oriental verge on the 20th at forty-three minutes past five; and sinks below the western boundary at three minutes after six and on the 23d he enters the equinoctial sign Libra.

The Moon rises on the 1st at seven minutes past ten, and on the 3d at half-past twelve, at night: she changes on the 7th, at twenty-one minutes after ten at night; and sets on the 13th at half-past seven in the evening. The Moon enters on her first quarter on the 16th, at two o'clock in the morning; and is due south on the 18th at a quarter-past eight in the evening: she is full on the 23d, at ten minutes after seven in the morning; and rises on the 25th about half an hour after six: she rises on the 27th at a quarter past seven in the evening; and enters on her last quarter on the 29th, at a quarter before ten at night; and rises on the 30th above half an hour before eleven.

MERCURY is to be seen in the mornings between the 12th and 26th of this month: he rises on the 14th at four o'clock; and about a quarter before five is visible to the naked eye, and through a good telescope appears a beautiful crescent: he rises on the 25th at a quarter past four.

VENUS is now too near the Sun to be seen by unassisted vision: the best time for observing her through a telescope is when she is due south, which happens on the 1st at a quarter past two, and on the 18th at a quarter past one, in the afternoon. This planet during this month is a fine narrow crescent, like the Moon when two or three days old.

MARS appears very near the horizon in the south-west after sun-set, and being now only small, can only be seen on very clear evenings: on the 12th he is near the Moon.

JUPITER is invisible.

SATURN sets on the 1st about a quarter before ten, on the 10that eight minutes past nine, and on the 23d at twenty minutes after eight: on the 14th he is in the neighbourhood of the Moon.

ALTAIR, the bright star of the Eagle, is on the meridian, or due south, on the Ist day at nine o'clock, and on the 20that a quarter before eight, in the evening.

FOMALHAUT, a large bright star in the southern Fish, passes the meridian on the 4th at midnight, and on the 23d at a quarter before eleven: this star always appears very low, even when due south, in our high northern latitute.-MARKAB, in Pegasus, passes the meridian a few minutes after Fomalhaut, but appears considerably higher in the heavens.

On the 23d day the autumn quarter takes place; and the beauties which summer had produced begin to fade; and the reflecting mind is led to make observations similar to the following:

"A love of sadness o'er my spirit steals,

And on the trees there rests a stagnant gloom;
For autumn, darkening o'er the summer's tomb,
The annual doom of vernal nature seals;
And now the mist enshrouded morning breaks,
With tardy blushings on the warning scene,
And moveless vapours veil the village green,
Whose lessening lustre e'en the sun forsakes:
For though October's tints have yet to come,
The sickly yellow, mix'd with sombre brown,
The pallid greenness of the grassy down,
Yet are the songsters of the forest dumb:

The languid sunbeams too the valley leave,
As fades the day into the chilly eve."

But if we keep in view the bright fields of astronomy, we find they change not with the seasons: they always appear decked in splendour, whenever the nights are clear. In every department of nature (even in hoary winter) we may trace the operations of divine wisdom and goodness.

"Above the earth, around the sky,

There's not a form, or deep, or high,
Where the Creator has not trod,
And left the foot-prints of a God!"

JUVENILE OBITUARY.

SARAH WILD was born June 20th, 1821, at Oldham. Her father died when she was between eleven and twelve years of age; and soon after this, she had deep impressions on her mind, the Spirit of the Lord striving with her. She attended the Wesleyan-Methodist Sunday-school, Mount-Pleasant, during which time there was a class raised for the scholars that were serious; and Sarah, with several of her schoolmates, set out for the kingdom of heaven. She delighted much in it at first; but not meeting with much encouragement from the other scholars, she resolved to join a class of experienced members, where she remained until she was removed

from the church militant to the church triumphant, which was not very long. In the latter end of the year 1835, she was taken ill of a lingering affliction, which continued between eight and nine months. Her Class-Leader, together with the teachers and scholars in the Sunday-school, often went to see her and pray with her; and she greatly delighted in their visits. The symptoms of her disorder were very fluctuating and uncertain, but at length she was confined to her bed. She did not, however, fully rejoice in the Lord as she wished to do, nor did she until about a fortnight before her death. On Saturday morning, July 2d, 1836, she called her eldest sister to pray with her, which she did: she prayed that when death came, she might fear no evil, not even when passing through the dark valley of the shadow of death. When she arose from prayer, Sarah said, "Sister, I do fear no evil." The Sunday following, July 3d, two or three of her religious friends came to see her, one of whom had joined the same class with Sarah. She asked her if she knew that God for Christ's sake had forgiven her sins: she said that she did. She could not talk much with them. They prayed with her, and left her rejoicing in the God of her salvation. The Monday following, July 4th, the clouds gathered together, and there was a heavy thunder-storm. She had frequently been frightened at this, but now that terror was taken away. As she lay in bed, she watched the storm, and said, "How grand it is!" Her mother asked her if she was not afraid: she said, "No; nor should I be, even if I knew that it was to be my death summons; for the last struggle would so soon be over;" and she added, "Jesus is precious to me." On the Thursday following, a friend called to see her, and Sarah told her, that she would not change places with her: she longed for the time of her departure. That night she talked much, and her sister read her the hymn beginning,

"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye

To Canaan's fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie."

She said, "My possessions do lie there; for whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth I desire besides Thee:" and again, "Yonder I have a great mansion. I shall be there soon I shall be in full possession." She adopted the language of the poet,

"My God is reconciled,

His pard'ning voice I hear;

He owns me for his child,

I can no longer fear."

But the time of her departure was at hand. She called her mother to her bed-side, and said, "Mother, Jesus is precious still." Her elder sister coming to her, Sarah said, "I cannot talk; but I know that Christ is mine, and I am his;" and she desired that the class of scholars she sat with in the Sunday-school should attend her funeral. On Friday, July 15th, a Minister called to see her: he said, "Sarah, how sorry I am to see you so poorly! But I under

stand you are quite resigned." She said, "Yes, 'though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for God is with me, His rod and staff comfort me.'"

She grew weaker; and on the Sunday following, about twelve o'clock, she was very ill she asked her mother to feel if her pulse was any lower, which she had frequently requested before. Her mother said, "Sarah, I call thee in a dying state." Her sister standing by, said, "It will be welcome when it comes, will it not? -death has no terror, has it, Sarah?" She could not talk much, but she made signs that death would be welcome, and would have no terror, whenever it came. About twenty minutes past one, she desired to be raised in bed. Her sister said, "Sarah, thou art going art thou aware?" She said she was; and, fixing her eyes towards heaven, immediately her happy spirit took its flight to the paradise of God, July 17th, 1836, aged fifteen years.

The scholars attended her funeral; and the hymn was sung which she had desired. The scholars walked before the corpse, and her relations and friends followed her to the grave, where her body was committed to the ground;-earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in full hope of a glorious resurrection. Surely we may add, "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord."

POETRY.

"WATCH AND PRAY."

BY MARY ANN BROWN.

THOMAS DUNN.

SAW ye where the Saviour kept
Watch, while His disciples slept?
Did ye hear that Saviour speak,
While the sweat bedew'd his cheek?
Did ye listen to the Lord,

And receive the hallow'd word?

Heard ye your Redeemer say

To his followers, "Watch and pray?"

Not to them alone that call:

It was given alike for all

All in pleasure, all in pain

They that serve, and they that reign:
All alike are mortal dust;

Vain is every earthly trust.

None can see how soon they may

Be as nothing." Watch and pray!"

Rich men, in your palaces,
Where ye live in plenteous ease,
Glorying in your golden store,
Know ye not 'twill soon be o'er?

Have none told ye what must be,
That so careless still are ye?

Hear it now-the voice obey:

Ye are mortal! "Watch and pray!"

Maiden, in thy beauty's pride,
With life's bitterness untried,

Know'st thou, though in life's young bloom,
Thou mayst perish in the tomb?

There the fairest flowers must wither

Thou like them art hastening thither:
Beauty soon will pass away:

O, whilst lovely, "watch and pray!"
Peasant, in thy lowly cot,
Murmuring at thy humble lot,

While thy children round thee strive,
Asking bread thou can'st not give,-
Wait with patience on the Lord;
He will not forget his word:
Dark temptations strew thy way;—
'Gainst their power" watch and pray!"

Earthly wealth will not endure;
None 'gainst Time can be secure ;
Rich, and poor, and King, and slave-
All must moulder in the grave!
But a day of wrath shall come:

All again must quit the tomb.

See, it cometh! Blest be they,

Who, while here, will "watch and pray."

THE EVENING RAINBOW.

BY SOUTHEY.

MILD arch of promise, in the evening sky
Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray
Each in the other melting. Much mine eye
Delights to linger on thee; for the day,

Changeful and many-weather'd, seem'd to smile,
Flashing brief splendour through the clouds awhile,
Which deepen'd dark anon and fell in rain:

But pleasant is it now to pause, and view

Thy various tints of frail and watery hue,
And think the storm shall not return again.
Such is the smile that piety bestows

On the good man's pale cheek, when he, in peace
Departing gently from a world of woes,

Anticipates the world where sorrows cease.

« AnteriorContinuar »