290 Summer — Julr/. 
As June was peculiarly the month of music and flowers, July 
is the early harvest of summer fruits, many of which are now in 
full perfection; and though the man of feeling would prefer the 
last month, the present certainly offers the most attractions to the 
epicure. Strawberries are during the first of the month in their 
ripest abundance, and fill the air with a fragrance even more de- 
licious than their fruits. While these are becoming scarce, rasp- 
berry bushes that embroider the walls and fences, hang out their 
tempting red, ripe clusters of berries, where the wild rose, the 
sweet-briar, and the elder-flower purify the summer atmosphere 
with sweet and healthful emotions. Nature seems to be inviting 
all her children to partake of the pleasure of sense, and would 
convert us all into epicures, by changing into delicious fruits those 
beautiful things which we contemplated with pleasure in the 
months of spring. 
The morning dawn bursting from the womb of darkness — the 
full splendor of noon — the softened charm of sunset — the evening 
twilight — and the glories of night, which lights its thousand 
lamps — the balmy softness of the air — the ever changing curtain 
of the floating clouds gracefully drawn over the sky to mitigate 
the excessive fervor with the refreshing coolness of the shade 
and the gentle breeze, speak the same language. The flowers 
that enamel the meadows, graceful in their form, lovely in their 
harmonizing hues, grateful in the sweetness of their perfume; the 
bushy shrubs — the majestic trees, difTering in size, in shape, and 
in shade — the living world in all its diversities — the busy insect 
fluttering in the sunbeam or moving across our path — the bird 
with its painted wing — the herds and flocks quietly grazing on 
hill or dale — each and all seem formed to fdl the mind with 
agreeable sensations, and to raise it in adoration to the Giver 
of all Good. 
" Every where," says Sturm, " nature works to procure us new 
enjoyments — even the smallest insects, leaves, and grains of sand, 
offer objects of admiration — the same brook that waters the val- 
leys, murmurs sweet music to our ear, invites us to soft repose, and 
refreshes the parched tongue. The grove which shields us from 
the piercing rays of the sun by its protecting shade, makes us ex- 
perience a delicious coolness. The trees, whose beautiful blos- 
soms so lately delighted us, will soon produce the most agreeable 
