There are now but few wild plants in flower. In the garden, in warm situations, the following are more or less in blow:-the ten-petalled sunflower, the late golden rod, pale gentian, bay, and wych hazel. We must not forget the pretty little virginia creeper, and the stately crysanthemum, of various species. A few primroses and polyanthuses continue to arrest the attention of the young botanist, which, with the many families of mosses, lead him to admire the infinite wisdom of God.

I shall close these notices with a few useful remarks, taken from "Time's Telescope," for 1832, and adapted for November.

"To prevent the gloom and melancholy proverbial to this month, the best thing is to defend the skin from chill and damp by proper clothing, and to seize every favourable glimpse of sunshine and dry weather to be out of doors. The power of electricity over the body is well known; in fact, we can never enjoy health or comfort without a proper portion of it in the system. When this portion is deficient, we feel languid, heavy, and low-spirited, and we very foolishly pronounce a libel on the blood, which is quite innocent; while we never suspect the damp atmosphere for robbing us of our electricity. Yet so it is. In dry weather, whether it be warm, cold, or frosty, we feel light and spirited; because dry air is a slow conductor of electricity, and leaves us to enjoy its luxuries. In moist or rainy weather, we feel oppressed and drowsy; because all moisture greedily absorbs our electricity, which is the buoyant cordial of the body. To remedy this inconvenience, we have only to discover a good non-conductor; and the thunder-bolt, or the forked lightning itself, could not pass through the thinnest silk handkerchief, provided always that it be quite dry. Those, therefore, who are apt to become low-spirited and listless in damp weather, will find silk waistcoats, drawers, and stockings, the most powerful of all cordials."

BRIEF ASTRONOMICAL NOTICES,

FOR NOVEMBER, 1843.

BY MR. WILLIAM ROGERSON, of the Royal Observatory, Greenwich.

"How beautiful it is! though on the air
There is the stillness of a coming storm,
And on the sky its darkness. On the west,

Like a rebellious multitude, the clouds

Are gathering in huge masses; but the moon,
Like a young Queen, unconscious, brightens still

A little clear blue space; though rapidly
Her comrades, the sweet stars, sink one by one,
Lost in the spreading vapours."

"ASTRONOMY is that department of knowledge which has for its abject to investigate the motions, the magnitudes, and distances of the heavenly bodies, the laws by which their movements are

directed, and the ends they are intended to subserve in the fabric of the universe. This is a science which has, in all ages, engaged the attention of the poet, the philosopher, and the Divine, and been the subject of their study and admiration. Kings have descended from their thrones to render it homage, and have sometimes enriched it with their labours; and humble shepherds, while watching their flocks by night, have beheld with rapture the blue vault of heaven, with its thousand shining orbs, moving in silent grandeur, till the morning star announced the approach of day. The study of this science must have been coeval with the existence of man; for there is no rational being who has for the first time lifted his eyes to the nocturnal sky, and beheld the moon walking in brightness, amidst the planetary orbs, and the hosts of stars, but must have been struck with admiration and wonder at the splendid scene, and excited to inquiries into the nature and destination of those far-distant orbs. Compared with the splendour, the amplitude, the august motions, and the ideas of infinity, which the celestial vault presents, the most resplendent terrestrial scenes sink into inanity, and appear unworthy of being set in competition with the glories of the sky."-Dr. Dick.

The SUN, appointed by the all-wise and benevolent Creator, to impart light and heat to our world and all his surrounding planets, rises on the 1st day at Greenwich at fifty-five minutes past six, and sets at thirty-three minutes after four: on the same day he rises at Edinburgh at nine minutes past seven, and sets at nineteen minutes after four. The Sun enters the sign Sagittarius in the night of the 22d; and on the 23d he rises at Greenwich at thirtythree minutes past seven, and sets at one minute before four on the same day he rises at Edinburgh at four minutes before eight, and sets at thirty-eight minutes after three.

The MOON sets on the 1st at a quarter before one in the morning, and on the 5th at a quarter past five: she is full on the 7th, at twenty-two minutes past five in the morning, and rises on the 8th about half an hour after sunset: she rises on the 10th at twenty-two minutes past six, and on the 12th at half-past eight. The Moon enters on her last quarter on the 15th, and rises about midnight on the 18th she rises at three o'clock, and on the 20th at ten minutes before six, in the morning: she changes on the 21st, at thirty-four minutes past five in the evening, and sets on the 24th at a quarter before seven: she sets on the 25th at eight o'clock, and on the 27th at half-past ten, at night; and is half-full on the 28th; and on the 30th she sets at a quarter before one in the morning.

MERCURY is visible to unassisted vision during the first week of this month he makes his appearance near the south-eastern horizon about an hour before the rising of the sun.

VENUS is invisible to the naked eye, being so near the sun; but through a good telescope, screened from the immediate rays of the sun, she appears like a little beautiful full moon: she is due south

on the 1st at quarter past twelve o'clock at noon, when her right ascension is fourteen hours fifty-five minutes, and her declination sixteen degrees fourteen minutes, south: this planet passes the meridian on the 26th at a quarter before one in the afternoon, her right ascension being seventeen hours five minutes, and her declination twenty-three degrees twenty-four minutes, south.

MARS is to be seen every clear evening: he is due south on the 1st at half-past five, and at the end of the month about half an hour earlier; he sets during the month at about half-past nine: on the 27th he is in conjunction with the Moon.

JUPITER appears very splendid in the evenings; and as he is at this time brighter than any other star in the heavens, it is impossible to mistake him he is due south on the 1st at eighteen minutes before seven, and on the 26th at fourteen minutes past five: he is near the Moon on the 27th, and on the 30th appears very near the planet Mars.

"I look'd on thee, Jove, till my gaze

Sank, smote from the pomp of thy blaze;
For in heaven, from the sun-set's red throne
To the zenith, thy rival was none.

"From thy orb rush'd a torrent of light
That made the stars dim in thy sight;
And the half-risen moon seem'd to die,
And leave thee the realm of the sky.

"I look'd on the ocean's proud breast,
The purple was pale in the west :
But down shot thy long silver spire,
And the waves were like arrows of fire.

"I turn'd from the infinite main,

And thy light was the light of the plain;
"Twas the beacon that blazed on the hill,
Thou wert proud, pure, magnificent still.

"A cloud spread its wing over heaven,
By the shaft of thy splendour 'twas riven,
And I saw thy bright front through it shine,
Like a god from the depth of his shrine.'

SATURN is to be seen in the south-west after sunset: on the 1st he sets at ten minutes before nine, and on the 26th at twenty minutes after seven: on the 24th he is in conjunction with the Moon.

URANUS is favourably situated for telescopic observation: he passes the meridian on the 1st at a quarter past nine, and on the 27th at half-past seven: his right ascension during this month is about twenty-three hours fifty-six minutes, and his declination one degree fifteen minutes, south.

Emersions of Jupiter's first Satellite.-On the 6th, at sixteen minutes past nine at night. On the 15th, at forty-one minutes after five in the evening. On the 22d, at thirty-seven minutes past seven o'clock at night.

THE WIND.*

I LOVE the sound of the gathering wind,
Portending tempests near ;
It fills with solemn awe the mind,
And breathes a hallow'd fear.

I love to hear its clear shrill pipe,
It makes my light heart dance;
It seems of hidden things a type,
And cannot blow by chance.

I love to hear it shriek and whine,
Then pettishly complain;
And then, in pensive mood, to pine
Like some sad love-lorn swain.

I love to hear its various notes,
From bursting thunders loud,
To zephyr's breath that lightly floats
O'er flowers with dew-drops bow'd.
I love to hear it blustering,
And swelling in its rage,

And all its fierce strength mustering,
As if a war to wage.

I love to hear it marching on,

And rushing through the skies;
A moment here, and then it's gone,
As swift as lightning flies.

I love to hear it softly come,
Stealing with timid tread,

And murmuring with solemn hum,
A requiem for the dead.

I love to see the cypress' shade
Rock'd by it to and fro,

Then pause to listen, as afraid
Of sounds so full of woe.

I love to see it take a leaf,
And, childlike, with it play,

As if it sought to find relief,
After a toilsome day.

I love to watch its gambols strange,
With aught of texture fair,

And mark how unconfined its range,

How free from thought or care.

*From "Lays of the Valley." By I. R. and M. A. BRADNACK.

I love, I love its every mood,
Its blithe or plaintive tone;
I love it, since it is sweet food
For thought, when I'm alone.
It tells me of the "mighty rush"
Of solemn Pentecost;

The "still small voice," whose power can hush
The spirit tempest-tost.

It tells me of the land above,

Where no more it is heard;

The peaceful homes of light and love,
For faithful ones prepared.

COMMUNION WITH GOD.*

O THERE are seasons when the soul
Can soar, upborne on eagle's wings,
Far, far beyond the wild control
Of this earth's vain imaginings;

And, in the stillness of the hour,

The calm, delicious hour, of even, Can taste of holy joys and pure,

Joys near akin to those of heaven. How have I felt the soothing power, Which nature in her holiest mood Imparts; while at this lovely hour

I've wander'd forth in solitude.

And still the path so often trod

Possesses charms unseen before ;
The purple heath, the flowery sod,
Allure me still with magic power.

My favourite skylark's tuneful note
(Sweetest of all the vocal train)
Like heavenly music seems to float
In air, a soul-inspiring strain.

The scenes around which meet my view,
The humble flowers, the lofty trees,

With fields of every shape and hue,
And corn just waving in the breeze

The pure and cloudless sky above,
Mildly, but not intensely blue,

*From "Meditative Hours." By MATILDA .