SUMMER. I come from the Lybian plain; And he retired. I have been where the serpents are; I fly o'er the sandy desert; The camel sinks under his load: I visit the temperate climes : The shepherd drives his bleating flock The youths and maidens leave the fields, The old man bade me look on the right by the cooling streams which distill copiously THE GENICS OF THE WATER STREAMS. Up heaven's steep to the point of noon- The shepherd daily watch'd his fleecy throng, But lately, as the bleating flock he led of a cataract. the rushing of his wings was like the noise A lofty spirit was now approaching us, and His eyes were piercing as the lightnings, and his gaze could not be endured; yet I perceived that his countenance varied: at this moment it was benevolent, and in the next it threatened destruction. At first it appeared to me that his right hand was flaming, but, on his nearer approach, I perceived that he held in it an avenging sword. In his left hand he carried an olive branch. His wings were distended for flight, but his feet rested on the thunder cloud. I hastily inquired of my guide the name of the mighty spirit before us. "It is the genius of the thunder-storin," said he; "he is the terror of the sons of men, when power is given him from above, to smite with the sword of almighty vengeance, Then the palaces of kings, and the cottages of poor men, fall together; the high places are thrown down, and the beautiful city is made a heap of stones. Then the mighty ones of the earth tremble, and perceive that there is a God on the earth. But so great is the Divine mercy, that not often will it permit this spirit to go forth a destroyer. Even while he launches tence; she points to the folds full of sheep, the shaft of the rapid lightnings, and calls to and to the waving valleys, which stand so the muttering thunders, which then re-echo thick with corn, that they both laugh and through the caverns of the earth, and roll sing. Happiness also is in her train; that along the vault of heaven;-even then, he is chaste happiness, whose smile beameth on bid to shake the olive over the land; and, so the heart when the hungry soul is filled, and far from injuring mankind, to give them a the drink of the thirsty faileth not." blessing in the storm. He purifies our atmosphere with the lightning, and destroys the pestilential and unwholesome vapors, whose pestiferous breath would else blight the fruits of the earth, and scatter disease on man and beast." He hath clothed mine arm with mighty power, He filleth his store-house with the hail-stones; He commandeth the storm, and I depart; The ocean rocketh from its lowest bed; The roarings of wild beasts fill the forest: And seeketh the haven. 66 A spirit of benevolent aspect now appeared. Her brow was bound with a wreath of vine leaves, and the juice of the grape stained her temples. She had in one hand a sickle, and in the other a few wheat ears. She was attended by two beautiful spirits, one of whom bore the cornucopia, from which the most rich and luxuriant fruits were continually falling; the other spirit carried no emblems of her of fice, but her countenance wore a look of angelic loveliness. Behold," said the sage, "the genius of the autumn, and adore the beneficent Being who hath commanded her to render the fruits of the earth in their seaAll these whom thou seest are but the servants of the Highest; it is theirs' to execute the behests only of One far mightier than they are. Therefore, whilst thou admirest and reverencest these beautiful ministers, remember that they are only ministers of Him who ordaineth both the early and the latter rain, and changeth the times and the seasons. Plenty attends upon autumn, and pours on every hand the blessings of Omnipo-|| Tonog 3 son. AUTUMN. "Tis sweet when the fruits of the earth are rife, "Tis sweet to see the poor ones pick the grain, Theirs is the happiness without alloy, Let The next spirit who approached us was crowned with cypress and held in her hand an oaken branch, whose withered leaves fell, and strewed her path as she swept along. "This," said the old man, "is the genius of the falling leaves. Her countenance and her employment are mournful alike. She casts a melancholy and desolate glance on the forests and the green vales and the beauties of nature fade beneath her awful gaze. mankind attend to the lesson which her duties inculcate, and remember that nothing earthly endureth for ever. Neither should they forget, that she only wraps the fields in transient gloom; Spring will return to scatter her blossoms and flowers on the desolate earth. The dreariness of autumn, and the ravages of winter, will be repaired by the sweet influence of the vernal sun." THE GENIUS OF THE FALLING LEAVES. Hast thou not seen, as the cold wind blew, Fitfully shining in heaven's deep blue, And where lay the pride of the forest tree, Before my chill and piercing breath And who shall take of the mould'ring clay, For when the spirit hath gone away, The trees which seem so wither'd and dead, And in the spring they will lift the head, And the soul who hath pass'd to her transient rest, Shall arise at the last to the fields of the blest, A spirit severe in countenance, succeeded to the last. Her form was hid in the numerous folds of her dark robe. Extending her bloodless arm, she held towards us a withered branch covered with the hoar-frost. "This is Winter," said my guide, "a spirit whose influence is still more withering than that of the last. Observe how languidly the stream flows at her approach; the flowers droop upon their stalks and the music of the feathered songsters is hushed." 66 WINTER. I come not to deform the year, Nor cast the freezing snow-storm drear Unbid of Him who rules alone Above, beneath the sky, The first, the last, the eternal One, He bids me touch the streams that flow, At his command I shed the snow, And loose the stormy winds that beat Where, in his cheerless, rude retreat, Ye desolate, who shrink beneath The cold and wint'ry blast, Ye feel the bitterness of death, But soon it will be past. There is a land of joy and peace, 'Tis where the seraphim sing; For there the winter's storms give place To an eternal spring. 66 They are gone," said I, in a tone of sorrow: "there is the valley, but its inhabitants are fled." They are gone," answered the old man; "but let not the lesson they have, taught us depart with them. All things are in his hand whose praise they seek;' not a leaf falls to the ground unseen of the Creator. Remember this in the hour of repining and discontent; be grateful for the good bestowed, and be patient under the evil inflicted; and learn to perceive, in every occurrence of human life, the directing influence of the God of the seasons."-THOMAS ROSE. More hearts pine away in secret anguish for unkindness from those who should be their comforters, than for any other calamity in life. From Bentley's Miscellany. THIS WORLD IS OURS. BY W. G. J. BARKER. This world is ours; if free from sin, The air, the earth, the waters teem Glad Nature from an hundred throats Each balmy breeze that wanders by, And the clear fountains have a voice Even the leaves of the forest trees, The busy bees, o'er garden flowers, Add, in their hollow monotone, There's beauty in the summer sky, Like a strong man refresh'd by sleep, And when behind the western rocks, How beauteous are the crimson clouds Are not the grassy valleys fair, Can aught more grand be found? So fill'd with voices sweet,- Enter'd this pleasant clime, This blessed thought is given, From the Philada. Saturday Courier. LOUISA DENNISON; OR, purity and delicacy, that they add to the attractions of the fairest face." "Did Arthur say so?" said Louisa, stooping down to look for her needle, which had THE CONSEQUENCES OF A SINGLE FAULT. fallen on the carpet. BY A LADY OF MARYLAND. "Certainly he did; but I cannot stay here all day talking, for my shopping is not half completed. Good bye;" and the gay girl, gathering up the folds of her rich velvet cloak, left the apartment. "Look here, Louisa," said Clara Harwood, as she entered the apartment of her cousin, "did you ever see any thing so splendid?" and opening a small morocco case which she held in her hand, she displayed a brilliant seting her head on her hand, fell into a train of of emeralds. 66 They are beautiful, indeed," said Louisa, and rising from her seat she took the jewels in her hand and examined, one by one, the pieces which composed the set. "Where did you get them, Clara?" she said, as, after reviewing the jewels in every possible light, she began to replace them in the box. "From Burnet, the new jeweller. He has the most beautiful shop you ever saw, and the most exquisite set of pearls. I hesitated a long time between them and these, but at last I remembered that pearls do not suit my swarthy skin and ebon locks; so I concluded to choose the splendid instead of the beautiful, and to leave the pearls for you.” "For me!" said Louisa, sighing. "Ah, you know I cannot afford expensive ornaments." "Oh! but Louisa, you must have them. They will suit you exactly. I assure you I thought of you when I saw them, and imagined how lovely you would look with the delicate pearls wreathed in your soft brown hair, and harmonizing so sweetly with your blue eyes and glowing complexion,' Louisa's only reply was a blush and a deeper sigh, and Clara resumed 66 You know Sarah Lorman's wedding takes place next week, and as you are to be one of her bridesmaids, I really do not see how you are to do without ornaments of some kind, and you could not get any thing fit to wear at a less price than these pearls; they are only five hundred dollars." Louisa sat down by the window, and lean thought in which pleasant remembrances seemed to mingle with anxieties hitherto unknown. At length she rose from her seat, and taking from a wardrobe a rich white satin dress, she attached to its skirt a trimming of lace, and then laying it on the bed, she walked a little distance to observe its effect. "It is a beautiful dress," she said at last; "I wish I could afford to purchase the pearls that Clara spoke of; it would then be perfect." She looked in the glass, and thought that her cousin was right in saying that pearls would harmonize with her style of features and complexion, and when she recollected that she had not a single article of jewelry in her possession, a feeling almost of despair came over her. "I shall be quite unnoticed among the brilliant throng at Mrs. Lorman's," she said to herself. "Arthur Cleveland's attention will be occupied by some fortunate being who can afford to wear the ornaments which he considers emblematic of purity, and I shall be neglected and alone." Tears filled her eyes as this sad picture rose to her mind, and hastily returning the dress to its place, she ran down stairs to escape from thoughts which now for the first time disturbed her tranquility. Louisa Dennison was an orphan. She had lost both her parents in childhood, and since then had lived under the protection of an aunt, a maiden lady, to whom she was much attached, but of whom, nevertheless, she stood in considerable awe. She had a small income of her own, sufficient to supply every reasonable want, but not sufficient to enable her to indulge in all the extravagances which fashion dictates, and her aunt was not likely to furnish the means to gratify a taste for dress, of which she by no means approved. Yet, notwithstanding her conviction of this, Louisa resolved to make an effort on an occasion upon which she fancied so much depended, and accordingly, after much deliberation, she commenced the subject by saying "Oh, to be sure they are not absolutely necessary, and your beauty, lady fair, needs not the foreign aid of ornament, but yet I "I wonder what I shall do for ornaments, cannot but agree with Arthur Cleveland, inaunt, to wear with my new dress." thinking that pearls are so emblematic of "Ornaments, my dear! what ornaments do you require? Have you not your own beautiful and abundant curls, and is not the green-house full of flowers?" "Oh, yes; but I do not want that kind of ornaments. I want pearls, and indeed I do not see how I can possibly do without them, do you?" "I have lived nearly fifty years," answered Miss Turner, dryly," and never experienced any difficulty in doing without pearls, or any other kind of jewels, and I have always considered that the large sums required to purchase them, might be much more profitably expended." answer, nor explanations to make, and when flushed with conscious beauty and anticipated triumph, she entered the crowded drawingroom at Mrs. Lorman's, all eyes were turned upon her, and more than one heart owned the power of her surpassing loveliness. Universal admiration, however, though gratifying to her vanity, was insufficient to satisfy her feelings; but when at the conclusion of the ceremony she saw Arthur Cleveland pressing through the crowd which separated them, and advancing eagerly to her side, her heart throbbed, and she cast down her eyes, lest he should read too plainly the happiness which sparkled there. If Cleveland had been pleased and interested before, he was now completely fascinated. He had recently removed to H, and the first emotion of tenderness his heart had ever known, had been excited by the beauty and gentle man Her neice did not reply: she only sighed as she reflected on the impossibility of her obtaining the coveted ornaments, and looked forward to the marriage of her friend with feelings far different from those which only a week ago, she had anticipated it. The important day arrived at last, and inners of Louisa Dennison. But, all that he the morning, Louisa was persuaded by her cousin Clara to accompany her to the shop of the jeweller, that she might at least see the tempting baubles she was forbidden to possess. She looked at them with such longing eyes, and Clara expressed in so audible a voice her regrets that she could not have them, at least for the week during which the wedding festivities were to continue, that the master of the shop at last said 66 "I should like to oblige the young lady, I will let her and as she seems so anxious to have the Louisa drew back, and hesitated; but Clara, in a low voice, urged her to accept the proposition, saying it was impossible the pearls could be injured, and that some one else would get them if she did not. Confused, and scarcely knowing what she did, Louisa drew forth her purse, and paying the man his demand, hastily signed the paper he presented her, and taking the box containing the jewels, she left the shop, and returned home, hardly knowing whether to rejoice or grieve at thus unexpectedly gaining possession of the beautiful ornaments she had so earnestly desired to possess. When evening came, however, and the costly yet modest gems were twined with her rich curls, and contrasted with the delicate bloom of her cheek, enhancing, yet softening the lustre of her beauty, she ceased to have any other than pleasurable feelings. Her aunt was absent on a visit to a sick friend; consequently she had no questions to had before experienced, was as nothing compared with what he now felt, as he gazed on the fair creature by his side, and endeavored to catch the expression of her half averted countenance. At last he found an opportunity to draw her aside from the company, to breathe in her ear the feelings with which his heart was filled, and to draw from her faltering lips a confirmation of the hopes which her agitated manner and downcast eyes had awakened. Louisa retired to her chamber that night too happy to think of her dress; but when she arose the next morning and proceeded to she was shocked to perceive that one of the deposit her pearls in their soft resting-place, bracelets which had encircled her beautiful arms was crushed and its beauty entirely marred. She had no time to indulge her regrets, for the breakfast bell sounded, and she hastened to complete her toilet, and to obey its summons. She was to remain at Mrs. Lorman's during the season of bridal festivity, and the cheerful conversation of her companions and her own agitated but happy thoughts, really left her no leisure to think of her broken jewels, nor of the consequences which must result from the injury they had sustained. Occasionally a feeling of apprehension would obtrude itself on her mind, but it was quickly dispelled by the cheerful voice of her lover: and during the whole of that gay week, Louisa was in a delirium of pleasure which almost precluded the possibility of reflection. It was not until she had returned to her own quiet home, and Arthur had left H-, to solicit the consent of his mother, (his only surviving parent,) to his immediate marriage, that she fully realized the very embarrassing position in which she stood with regard to Mr. Burnet, the jeweller. It was not possible that the bracelet could be |