except by the light which it reflects or suffers to pass through it, unless, indeed, it be seen as a dark spot, intercepting the light which comes from some other object. Now the air reflects light in all directions, so that some light always falls upon what would otherwise be the dark side of an object, and renders it visible. We can scarcely bring ourselves to imagine what would be the appearance of the most familiar objects, if those parts of them only were visible, upon which the direct light of the sun, or the light reflected from other large objects fell. But they would certainly appear very distorted; and their shapes would probably be so strange, that we should scarcely recognize them. Besides this, all the part of the sky, except that in which the sun happened to be, would, without the atmosphere, appear totally dark, even at noonday.

All the properties of the atmosphere which we have hitherto noticed, might, for anything we know, have belonged to dry air. But this would have fallen far short of supplying the wants of other parts of the creation. Water always runs to the lowest level; but, as all animals and vegetables require a constant supply of moisture, some means were necessary by which the water, which is always running down to the ocean, should be pumped up again, and, what is more, should be pumped up fresh. The invisible atmosphere about us supplies the machinery by which this great natural process is effected. Besides the dry air which it contains, consisting, as we we have seen, of different parts,—there is also in the atmosphere a quantity of vapour of water, which is invisible, except under peculiar circumstances. In the very driest weather, the presence of this vapour can be detected, by cooling a body till either a dew or ice settles upon it. This vapour is constantly rising from the sea, and from the surface of the land: and, what is very remarkable, the salt of the sea-water is left behind in evaporation. It is this vapour which forms clouds, tempering the extreme heat and dazzling light of the sun's direct rays. The same source supplies the materials for rain, hail, snow,

mist, dew. Thus, moisture is present everywhere, ready to supply the constant wants of plants and animals.

'

We cannot but observe the wisdom which is found in this part also of the Creator's works. Had we been told that water was to be carried about everywhere, and at all times, through the air, we should probably have expected an atmosphere of thick fog, through which the light of the sun could scarcely have penetrated. And it is an additional reason for wonder and thankfulness, when we see all the useful purposes of an abundant supply of water effected, without any injury to the other properties of the atmosphere, without usually affecting its transparency, without ever interfering with its power of supporting respiration, of conveying sound, or of reflecting light.

LORD WILLIAM.

No eye beheld, when William pushed young Edmund in the stream;

No human ear but William's heard young Edmund's drowning scream.

Submissive, all the vassals owned the murderer for their lord;

And he as rightful heir-possessed the house of Erlingford.

The ancient house of Erlingford stood in a fair domain; And Severn's ample waters near, rolled through the fertile plain.

But never could Lord William dare to gaze on Severn's stream;

In every wind that swept its waves, he heard young Edmund scream!

In vain, at midnight's silent hour, sleep closed the

murderer's eyes ;

In every dream the murderer saw young Edmund's form arise!

Slow went the passing hours, yet swift the months appeared to roll;

And now the day returned, that shook with terror William's soul

A day that William never felt return without dismay; For, well had conscience calendar'd young Edmund's dying day,

A fearful day was that! the rains fell fast with tempest

roar,

And swollen tide of Severn spread far on the level shore.

In vain Lord William sought the feast, in vain hẻ quaffed the bowl,

And strove, with noisy mirth, to drown the anguish of his soul

The tempest, as its sudden swell in gusty howlings

came

With cold and death-like feelings, seemed to thrill his shuddering frame.

Reluctant now, as night came on, his lonely couch he pressed;

And, wearied out, he sank to sleep,-to sleep-but not to rest!

Beside that couch, his brother's form, Lord Edmund seemed to stand!

Such and so pale, as when in death he grasped his brother's hand;

Such and so pale his face as when with faint and faltering tongue

To William's care-a dying charge!-he left his orphan

son.

I bade thee with a father's love my orphan Edmund guard

Well, William, hast thou kept thy charge! now take thy due reward!

He started up-each limb convulsed with agonizing

fear:

He only heard the storm of night,—'twas music to his ear!

When, lo! the voice of loud alarm his inmost soul appals:

66

What, ho! Lord William, rise in haste! the water saps thy walls "

He rose in haste :-beneath the walls he saw the flood

appear!

It hemmed him round-'twas midnight now-no human aid was near!

He heard the shout of joy!-for now a boat approached the wall;

And eager to the welcome aid they crowd for safety all,

My boat is small," the boatman cried, "twill bear but

one away;

Come in, Lord William! and do ye in God's protection stay."

Then William leaped into the boat, his terror was so

sore;

“Thou shalt have half my gold!" he cried.

haste to yonder shore !"

"Haste!-

The boatman plied the oar; the boat went light along the stream;—

Sudden Lord William heard a cry, like Edmund's drowning scream!

The boatman paused; "Methought I heard a child's distressful cry!"

""Twas but the howling wind of night," Lord William made reply;

"Haste !-haste !-ply swift and strong the oar; haste! -haste across the stream!"

Again Lord William heard a cry, like Edmund's drowning scream!

"I heard a child's distressful voice," the boatman said again.

"Nay, hasten on-the night is dark-and we should search in vain!"

"And oh! Lord William, dost thou know how dreadful 'tis to scream!"

The shriek again was heard: it came more deep, more piercing loud:

That instant o'er the flood the moon shone through a broken cloud:

And near them they beheld a child-upon a crag he stood

A little crag, and all around was spread the rising flood. The boatman plied the oar-the boat approached his

resting place

The moonbeam shone upon the child-and shewed how pale his face!

"Now, reach thine hand!" the boatman cried, "Lord William, reach and save !”

The child stretched forth his little hands-to grasp the hand he gave!

Then William shrieked; the hand he touched was cold, and damp, and dead!

He felt young Edmund in his arms! a heavier weight than lead!

"Oh, mercy! help!" Lord William cried, "the waters o'er me flow!"

"No-to a child's expiring cries no mercy didst thou

shew!"

The boat sank down, the murderer sank, beneath the avenging stream;

He rose, he shrieked-no human ear heard William's drowning scream!

-Southey.

WATER IN A STATE OF VAPOUR.

WATER in a state of vapour constantly exists in the atmosphere. If the vapour comes in contact with anything cooler than itself, its moisture is at once precipitated. Around the cool sides of mountains frequently hang great clouds, which are only masses of floating vapour. The Scottish hills are celebrated for their