green aspect; the leaves of the lilac are peeping from beneath their winter covering; and gooseberry and currant trees display their verdant foliage and pretty blossoms. Greenwich, Kent. WILLIAM ROGERSON. BRIEF ASTRONOMICAL NOTICES, FOR MARCH, 1833. THE SUN is the centre of the solar system, around which the planetary orbs revolve; and is the first and greatest object of astronomical knowledge. The Sun, under divine Providence, is the parent of the seasons; day and night, summer and winter, are among the surprising effects which he produces. All the vegetable creation are the offspring of his beams; our own lives are supported by his influence: nature revives, and puts on a new face when he approaches nearer to us in spring, and sinks into a temporary death at his departure from us in the winter. "By his magnetic beam he gently warms The Sun rises on the 1st at forty-eight minutes past six, and sets at thirty-eight minutes after five on the 18th he rises at ten minutes past six, and sets at eight minutes after six. The Sun enters the equinoctial sign Aries on the 20th, at thirteen minutes past eight in the evening; at which time the spring quarter takes place. The MOON passes the meridian on the 1st at eight minutes past eight, and on the 3d at ten minutes after ten, at night. The Moon is full on the 6th, at two minutes before five in the morning: she rises on the 7th at twenty minutes before eight, and on the 10th at half past eleven, at night. The Moon enters on her last quarter on the 13th, at three minutes before six in the morning; and rises on the 15th at about a quarter before four in the morning: she changes on the 21st, at seven minutes past eleven in the forenoon; and presents her beautiful crescent in the west on the 23d. The Moon sets on the 24th at forty minutes past nine, and on the 26th at midnight : she enters on her first quarter on the 28th, at twelve minutes before eleven at night; and passes the meridian on the 30th at three minutes before eight in the evening. MERCURY is visible in the evenings towards the end of the month, setting about two hours after the sun. VENUS appears with refulgent lustre every clear evening in the western skies: this beautiful planet sets on the 4th at a quarter past ten, and on the 23d at about a quarter before eleven: on the 25th she is in conjunction with the Moon. MARS passes the meridian on the 8th at a quarter before six, and on the 18th at half-past five, in the evening: on the 27th he is in the neighbourhood of the Moon. JUPITER is to be seen during the first half of the month, near the western horizon, after sun-set; afterwards he becomes invisible. SATURN is in opposition to the Sun on the 15th; at which time he rises due east at sun-set, and sets due west at the time the sun rises, consequently passes the meridian at midnight: he is in conjunction with the Moon on the 6th day. CAPELLA Souths on the 1st at half-past six, and on the 15th at half-past five. On the 7th CASTOR, PROCYON, and POLLUX, pass the meridian about half-past eight at night; and on the 23d they south an hour earlier. The bright fixed star SIRIUS, or the Dogstar, is due south on the 10th at twenty-four minutes past seven, and on the 20th at forty-five minutes after six, in the evening. Greenwich, Kent. WILLIAM ROGERSON. JUVENILE OBITUARY. 1. DIED, at Huddersfield, Nov. 26th, 1831, William Aram. He was born July 24th, 1811. Very early in life he manifested great attachment to religious instruction, and was evidently under the influence of the fear of God. When quite a child, he has been frequently overheard, while earnestly praying that God would teach him how to pray, and what to pray for. Happily these visitations were not overlooked by his parents, whose desire it was that their son should live before God; and, what is but too unusual, though very unnecessarily so, in the present case they were continued till they issued in his spiritual regeneration. Being sent to school, away from home, for twelve months, he took with him his Bible, and John Nelson's Journal, a volume in which he took great pleasure; and when he returned, the good feelings with which he left home were evidently as powerful as ever. When somewhat more than thirteen years of age he began to meet in class; and in the spring of 1825, obtained the sense of pardoning mercy, which enabled him now to love as well as to fear God. His father had been for a short time from home; and, on his return, observing in William a considerable alteration, especially an additional cheerfulness, inquired the reason, and obtained in reply a very satisfactory account to the following effect:-" About three weeks ago," said the youth, "I was for several days in very great distress. I felt that I was a sinner and needed mercy: but, while I was praying, it seemed as if God had spoken to my mind, 'Peace be unto thee.' I felt so happy, I could scarcely contain myself." With great simplicity, he added, that soon after he felt as though he were too young to be made so happy; but this suggestion he overcame by confidently confessing the work of God. "I felt," he said, "that God had blessed me, and I would not deny it." A temptation to carelessness followed this; but as his peace was great, so likewise was he taught of God, and said at once that he had now more need than ever of prayer, more occasion. than ever for praise. The interesting conversation his eyes, "And so, father, I keep on praying and praising God; and I hope to praise God through all eternity." His father, with whom he continued to dwell, gives this pleasing testimony, that" from this time, to his last sickness, he was one of the most affectionate, obedient, and industrious children that a man could possibly have." In his religious character he was exceedingly correct. Youthful vanities appeared to have no power on his mind. Without being at all gloomy, (he was too happy for that,) he was, nevertheless, habitually and devoutly serious. He had put his hand to the plough, and he did not look back. To all appearance, he was steadily, and with his whole soul, pressing towards the mark for the prize of his high calling. Since his early removal it has been remarked, that had he known the day of his death to be so near as it eventually proved to be, he could scarcely have been more earnest and devoted than he was, It was his father's wish that he should be apprenticed; but against this he remonstrated, urging as his reason, that his religious advantages would be much greater at home. He was told that in a pecuniary point of view the plan proposed to him would be superior to his own. Being thus pressed, he replied, though with evident timidity, that he thought that much money was not necessary to make a man happy; and that he had an impression on his mind that when he was older, he should be called to preach to others that Gospel which had been such a source of blessedness to himself. When, however, he had thus opened his heart to his parents, he added, "And now that I have told you my mind fully, I am ready to go apprentice to any trade to which you may think proper to put me." His father yielded to his wishes; and thenceforward William was engaged with him in his own occupation, that of a gardener. He was very desirous of mental improvement; and not only rose very early that he might have leisure for the pursuit of knowledge, but sometimes, yielding to his own feelings, which on this subject were very ardent, rather than to the better judgment of his parents, he continued to a late hour the studies in which he was engaged. It is observable however, that this thirst after improvement was not allowed so to engross him as to affect his personal piety, or to encroach on the time which it was his duty to devote to his earthly calling. He was "not slothful in business," but was enabled, at the same time, by the grace of God to be "fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." Nor did he neglect the opportunities of usefulness which came in his way. He became a Sunday-school teacher; he engaged in the distribution of religious tracts; and would sometimes on a summer Sabbath morning, take a handful of tracts, go down to the river side, and distribute them among the boys who were there bathing, and in other ways breaking the Sabbath. Indeed, to those of his own age he seemed particularly attached, conversing with them when in health, visiting them in sickness, and endeavouring, by the use of all the means in his power, to awaken in them a serious concern for their souls. Timid as he was, and modest in his behaviour, so that his zeal never appeared at all forward or obtrusive, he was, nevertheless, very active, steady, and persevering. He was careful to make the best use of his time. In mere neighbourly conversation he took no particular pleasure, but appeared as though he felt he had a business to mind, and had time for nothing else; manifesting at the same time a warm-hearted affection for his friends, genuine sympathy with all who were suffering; and, in a word, entire freedom from either a self-sufficient complacency, or a haughty repulsive moroseness. While thus engaged in diligent attention to the two great divisions of active duty, in reference to things temporal and spiritual, he still preserved his strong love for devotional retirement. His father says, "When at labour in the land, I believe the trees of a neighbouring wood have witnessed many a fervent prayer to God, as well as the walls of a barn which I occupy." Since his death, in removing some hay from the place last-mentioned, a couple of books were found, which he had left there just at his sickness; a circumstance which very powerfully affected the minds of his bereaved parents, who observed on it, that "their feelings were such as they could not describe, when they recollected that the feet which bore them there had ceased to move, and the hands which had turned over these pages were now cold in the grave." For some time the house adjoining his father's was unoccupied the opportunity of a more complete retirement (as he supposed) he eagerly embraced, and spent many evenings in a chamber in the back part of it. Such, however, was the earnestness of his spirit, that his occupation was generally known when he little suspected it. In the earlier months of 1830, his mind was strongly exercised on the subject of preaching. His father saw that something appeared to be almost preying on his spirits, and endeavoured to ascertain the cause; asking him, first, if he were unwell; and next, what was the state of the Sunday-school prayer-meetings; to which inquiries he gave satisfactory answers. It was then intimated to him that he was not to be surprised if the enemy of his soul should "thrust sore at him;" but to this he replied, with much simplicity, "I think, father, that my mind is so given up to God and good things, that Satan has very little chance with me." A year or two before, it had been observed that the work of grace on his own soul was evidently extending and deepening; and young as he was in years, God had mercifully established him in grace. The exercises of which I have just spoken, appeared subsequently to have arisen from his own sense of the greatness of the work, to which he nevertheless felt that his whole soul was drawn. He at once longed after it, and shrunk back from it, deeply feeling his own insufficiency; the natural modesty of his temper, heightened by his true Christian humility, prevented him from making known his impressions to the Superintendent of the Circuit, from whom he would have received the most affectionate and useful counsel. That in this he erred, it is now easy to perceive; but this error was on the safer side, and is in all cases to be preferred to the opposite extreme of forwardness, border rance, and very small humility. Soon after the appointment of Mr. Hannah to the Circuit in 1830, he overcame his reluctance, and communicating his feelings to him, (with whom I am glad thus to associate myself, by calling him my old and esteemed friend,) he received such advice and encouragement as he needed, obtained from him a note of permission to preach, and was afterwards admitted on the plan, raising in the minds of the excellent Local Preachers with whom he thus became connected, very pleasing expectations of his future usefulness in the church and world. It was mysteriously, but we are sure wisely and mercifully, appointed otherwise. On the 10th of October, 1831, after having attended to his appointments on the preceding Sabbath, he was taken very unwell, and so continued for a fortnight, when some favourable change in the symptoms excited anew the hope that he would yet be spared to his family and friends. On the 16th of November, however, the disorder (principally seated in the head) returned with increased violence, and hope began to yield to fear. From the nature of his complaint, he was not able to read without great pain, and was indisposed for much conversation. His father, adverting to the 327th hymn of our large Hymn-Book, William took up the book, opened at the hymn, read the first two verses, but was, through the strength of his feelings, unable to proceed. He closed the book, tears gushing from his eyes. The same evening, to a young friend who visited him, and was conversing on the necessity of being fully prepared for death, he observed, that "he blessed God, who had for Christ's sake pardoned his sins, and cleansed him from all unrighteousness;" adding,⚫ "that he felt quite willing to depart, should it please God to call him." So the next day, to a class-mate, who had expressed his fears that the sickness was unto death, he stated himself as being "quite resigned to the will of God, whatever it might be." On the 19th, a sort of apoplectic seizure considerably impaired his power of speech. His mother was unable to conceal her grief from him, on observing which he wept, and begged her not to be unhappy on his account. It was now evident that the disorder was making rapid progress: he suffered much, but not a murmuring expression fell from his lips. It was discovered on the Wednesday, that he had lost the use of his right side; but, on being asked the state of his mind, he replied, very emphatically, "Happy;" and his sufferings being alluded to, he interrupted the speaker, and with much fervour said, "I shall row through." Thus he continued through that and the succeeding day, suffering much, able to articulate very little, and occasionally manifesting a slight wandering. On the Thursday evening, he said, very distinctly, "Mother, without holiness no man shall see the Lord;" and soon after, "Come, Lord Jesus!" He made a few attempts to speak after this, but nothing could be understood. The disease had now reached such a height, that he was unable to move any part but his left arm: this, however, he frequently elevated. On Friday, opening his eyes, he looked earnestly at his mother, with a smile of peculiar sweetness overspreading his countenance, which observing, she went to him and said, "William, I think thou |