my sons and daughters, my cities, my national renownand for my eternal salvation ! Slowly, like one stiffened in death, the accusing spectre has vanished. It is for us my beloved countrymen-it is for us to lay this terrible spirit forever, that he accuse us not at a moment when all that have breathed on earth'the world's gray fathers' and the latest born, shall be witnesses of our disgrace-when the hollowness of our boast of freedom shall provoke the jeers of the world.' GOD. Skies dark with azure glory see, Above which swim the ships of heaven; And by thy breath their sails are driven. Clouds spread like thunder-thrones abroad- All speak the Everpresent God, Strong to destroy, but swift to save. Wide ocean, hush thy beating breast, Emblem of vast Eternity! God's voice hath calmed thy waves to rest, Beautiful earth, crowned with wild flowers, With honey-suckles redolent, His voice with music fills thy bowers, And thy fair hills with merriment. SUMMER. IT is a recent remark that the United States are scorched with the summer of Syria and frozen with the winter of Russia. The consequence of these extremes is that our scenery has a character distinct from other continents. The glowing sun would ripen the rich fruits of the tropics if the winter did not abridge the period necessary for ripening them-but even our severe winters if they destroy fruit and flower, have no injurious power over foliage. The American forest is made up so much of the evergreen that the snow and frost destroy only half of the mountain beauty; an imperturbable green, more beautiful on account of the white back ground, smiles all winter long above the deep snow. The excess of foliage, if it may be so called, marks the strength of our soil and the exuberance of our climate. The American mountains, with but few exceptions, are wooded to their very summits, and waters, purer and sweeter than the fabled Olympian nectar, gush down their sides and irrigate the evergreen forests. The great changes discernable in the course of the year, throughout a wide extent of our country, are a refreshing of the deep standing color of the evergreens in the months of April and May. The hills and mountains throw out a livelier tint-the table lands and the vallies are covered over with a mellowed, fawn-colored foliage, intermingled with snowy white where the flowers precede or overpower the leaves-the chasms between the districts of unchanging verdure are filled up with the softer shades that are doomed to an existence measured by summer suns and winds. This is the first great change. The second is after the frosts have passed upon shrub and leaf and flower; given to some a brown color, to others a fiery red, and the rains and winds have wept and moaned over the autumnal quietus of the leafy groves. Between the birth and death of flowers and foliage the American summer reigns with unrivalled glory. The intense heat is generally so well balanced with rain and dew that the sun rarely scorches the verdure, except in seasons remarkable for drought. The interchange of rain and sunshine is worthy of note. The mercury in the thermometer may range during the day above ninety-thunder gusts of brief duration may drench the earth one hour to be absorbed by the unveiled rays of the next hour-and the general equation of the heat be sustained throughout the day until sober evening has cooled the atmosphere and thrown the creeping vapors along the margins of rivers and brooks. The summer moons are glorious. From the remarkable elevation of the visible concave they pour their enchanting light into the bosom of the greeen woods the embrasures of the hills, and abroad over the tranquil surfaces of lakes and streamlets. The atmosphere is not stained and consequently contracted by colored vapors all is transparent-the skies are blue above, and the stainless moonbeams diffuse their silver radiance over the face of nature, softening the wildness and beautifying the sublimity of our magnificent scenery. SATURDAY EVENING. Down rolls the sun-and man may rest, Come, poor man, come and rest thee now, Again the channel of thy wealth In blushing torrents shall roll by- Come, rich man, stop the thousand wheels That roar in labor night and day, And, as thy soul in silence kneels, Come, learn the words thy heart should pray : To God in heaven, The only King Of kings serene, How shall I give as he hath given How suffer like his suffering My guilty soul to screen! Oh could I love As he hath done Through death's cold night; And then, when morning smiled above Still love with pity and delight! Let me forgive And let me sigh, O'er sins that in my memory live, 'Tis Saturday evening-and lonely in heaven GEORGE THE IV.-KING OF ENGLAND. We have words of eulogy for a king no more than for another man. In our estimation all men are equalexcepting always the equality of those miserable beings who flutter in the sunshine of courts and live in the smile of princes. George the Fourth was born in the palace of St. James, August 12, 1762, and lived to be far advanced in his 68th year. Until he was thirty years of age his person was considered a model of manly beauty-and every grace of form was armed by his facinating and seductive manners, investing him with a dangerous power over the female heart which he seemed not disposed to exert on the side of virtue. After the age of thirty, other ravages than those of time began to develope in his constitution, and his body exhibited a strong inclina |