haps find him neither distinguished by elegance of person nor elevation of rank.

The carnation combines both beauty and fragrance, and is one of the most perfect of flowers; in the richness and beauty of its colours it approaches the tulip, and surpasses it in the number of its leaves and in the elegance of its form. This flower is the emblem of a person in whom sense and beauty are united, and who has the happiness to conciliate the love and respect of his fellow-creatures.

Let us next observe the rose: its colour, form, and perfume, all charm us; but its beauty soon fades, and the attractions which distinguish it from other flowers soon cease. This is a useful lesson to those who pride themselves upon beauty only; from the short-lived honours of the rose, let them take warning how frail and perishing are the charms of person and the elegance of form. All is vanity; all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of the field; the grass withereth, and the flower fadeth away.' The lilies and the roses of a beautiful face, fade like the flowers of the garden, and death leaves no trace of them behind. Let us then be wise enough to seek our happiness and repose from more certain and durable sources. Wisdom, virtue, and the blessings of Christianity never fade, and are never exhausted; they are the eternal fountains of joy, whose waters shall refresh when every other source is dried up.

JULY VIII.

Phenomena of a Thunder-storm.

HOWEVER terrible the effects of storms and of thunder may be, they present a spectacle so grand and astonishing that they claim our most earnest consideration. An examination into their nature and effects is the more necessary, because it often happens that an excessive fear prevents our considering this grand and awful spectacle with sufficient attention. When a stormy cloud or collection of vapours highly elec

trified, approaches so near a high building, or a cloud which is not electrified, that an electric spark escapes from it, an explosion takes place, which is called a clap of thunder; and the vivid light that we see is lightning. Sometimes we only see a sudden and momentary flash; at other times a train of fire shoots through the heavens in a forked or zigzag form. The explosion which accompanies the lightning, demonstrates that the vapours which occasion the thunder, becoming suddenly ignited, violently agitate and expand the air; with the emission of each electric spark an explosion is heard, and the thunder is sometimes composed of second claps, or is prolonged and multiplied by echo.

There is generally some interval of time between the lightning and the thunder-clap, and this enables us to judge of the degree and nearness of the danger; for sound requires some time to reach our ear, while light passes so rapidly, that, travelling through the same space, it strikes upon our organs of vision much sooner. As soon therefore as we see a flash of lightning, we have only to count the seconds that intervene before we hear the thunder; or if we have not a watch, we may count how many times our pulse beats between the clap and the flash: if we can reckon ten, we are certain that the thunder is distant a quarter of a league; for about forty pulsations may be felt whilst the sound travels the space of one league.*

Lightning does not always proceed in a right line from above downwards, but often in a serpentine or zig-zag direction, and sometimes does not flash till very near the ground. The electric matter which reaches the earth, or takes fire near it, never fails to strike; but it has not always force enough to reach us, and, like an ill-charged bomb, is spent in the air without doing much injury: but when the combustible vapours reach the ground they often occasion great

Perhaps it may assist those who are not accustomed to this kind of calculation to be aware that sound passes about one thousand feet in one second of time; so that if twenty seconds can be counted between the clap and the flash, the place where the thunder is generated is distant twenty thousand feet.---E.

damage. However, as uncultivated tracts of land, deserts, and places where there are no habitations, form the greatest part of our globe, the thunder may often peal, and the lightning's flash pierce the earth, void of harm. The course of lightning is very singular and uncertain, and depends upon the direction of the wind, the quantity of exhalations, and various other causes. It passes whenever it meets with combustible matter, as when gunpowder is lighted the flame runs along the course of the train, firing every thing in its way.

We may judge of the force of the lightning by the astonishing effects it produces: such is the ardency of the flame that it consumes all combustible bodies; it even melts metals, but often spares the substances contained in them when they are sufficiently porous to admit of a free passage through them. It is owing to the amazing velocity of the lightning, that the bones of animals are sometimes calcined without the flesh being at all injured; that the strongest buildings are thrown down, the trees torn up by the roots, or cleft, the thickest walls overturned, and stones and rocks broken, and reduced to powder. To the sudden refraction and violent agitation of the air, produced by the intense heat and velocity of the lightning, may be attributed the death of those animals that are found suffocated without any appearance of having been struck by lightning.

Let us then meditate in silence upon the awful and sublime appearance of a storm; when we see the black clouds gather, and the sun withdraw his light, as if to hide himself from the contending elements, let us remember it is the Lord Omnipotent who bows the heavens, and comes down with darkness under his feet.' The winds rush from the four corners of heaven, and the storm thickens; but God himself is in the whirlwind, and walketh upon the wings of the wind. At his command the clouds retire, and the thunder and red lightning disperse. Hearken attentively to the sound of his voice, to the terrible sound that goeth out of his mouth. He directeth it under the whole heaven, and darts his lightning unto the ends of the earth.' But though his countenance be

lifted up in wrath, and his storms strike terror into a guilty world, his beneficent hand is mercifully extended to all who prefer the sweets of religion and the purity of innocence to the empty and insignificant pursuits of thoughtless folly, or the more baneful practice of iniquity and continued dissipation.

JULY IX.

The Ants.

THE ants, as well as the bees, may be considered as a little commonwealth, having a peculiar government, laws, and police. They live in a sort of town, divided into various streets which lead to as many magazines. Their industry and activity in collecting and using the materials which they want for their habitation is admirable. They all unite together to dig the earth and carry it away from their retreat; they co!lect a great quantity of grass, straw, sticks, &c, with which they form a heap, that at first seems very irregularly constructed, but a closer examination discovers much art and skill. Beneath the domes or little hillocks that cover them, and which are always so contrived as to throw off the water, there are passages which communicate together, and may be considered as the streets of their little city.

But what is still more remarkable, is the care which the ants take of their eggs; they convey them with the utmost solicitude from place to place, nourish their young, and remove with the tenderest anxiety every thing that might hurt them. Their painful toils to procure provisions during the summer are chiefly for the preservation of their young; for the ants themselves require no food during the winter, being nearly in a state of insensibility or sleep till the return of the spring. As soon as their young come out of the eggs, the ants are busily employed in feeding them, and undergo much labour in the precious charge. They have generally several habitations, and they transport their young from one to any other they may wish to people. According as the

weather is cold or hot, wet or dry, they bring their chrysals nearer to the surface of the earth, or remove them farther downward. In mild weather they bring them near the surface; and sometimes after a shower of rain, place them where they may receive the warmth of the sun-beams; or after a long drought they lay them in the dew, but as the shades of night deepen, or rain and cold set in, they again take up their little ones, and carry them low down into the earth.

There are several varieties of these insects: the wood-ants only inhabit forests or bushes, and do no harm to the fields: of these there are two species, one red, the other black. Some of them settle in the ground, in dry soils, generally choosing those places where they find roots of fir-trees or birch. Others inhabit old trunks of trees above ground, and sufficiently high to be out of the reach of its moisture; they make themselves apartments in the cavities of the trunk, and cover them with straw and other materials to shelter them from snow and rain.

The field-ants are also red or black, like the others, but they are smaller in size; they either live among the corn or in the soil of the field. When the weather is dry they bury themselves pretty deep; but as soon as it becomes rainy, they raise their habitations, according as there is more or less moisture, and when it diminishes they return to their subterranean dwellings. Ants are also furnished with wings, and towards the autumn they are seen to fly in swarms over ditches and ponds.

Some people may perhaps think that these mischievous ants can deserve no portion of our attention, when they do so much injury to our fields, by their subterranean works making the ground hollow, and preventing vegetables from growing. Other complaints are also alleged against them: they are enemies to bees and silk-worms, and are supposed to injure flowers and young trees Hence the ants are generally exterminated whenever they are found. But whatever aro their powers of doing mischief, they certainly, as a link