[D] It is a curious fact that the originator of that doctrine is not an American, but a British statesman. George Canning, on the eve of his departure for Verona, having got an inkling of a South-European federation for the purpose of assisting Spain in the reconquest of her lost transatlantic possessions, postponed his trip and put himself in communication with the American minister, in order to call the attention of our government to the favorable opportunity for asserting the claims of a counter alliance. GEOGRAPHY OF THE HEAVENS FOR JUNE. BY PROF. M. B. GOFF, Western University of Pennsylvania. THE SUN. “’Tis by thy secret, strong attractive force, As with a chain indissoluble bound, Thy system rolls entire; from the far bourne Of utmost Saturn, wheeling wide his round Of thirty years, to Mercury, whose disk Can scarce be caught by philosophic eye, Lost in the near effulgence of thy blaze.” Had our poet written his _Summer_ in 1781, the year in which Uranus was discovered, instead of 1727; or could he have waited till 1846, his “utmost Saturn wheeling wide his round of thirty years” would probably have been changed and in beautifully flowing verse would have been expressed the wonderful fact of “utmost Neptune, wheeling wide his round, whose years could only be by four and sixty and one hundred told.” So much in one respect had astronomy grown in a little more than a century. But we could have no heart to blame our poet’s neglect of our “utmost” planets, even had he known of their existence, since he was so evidently in earnest in giving its due to our glorious orb, recognized to-day as the source of all our light, and heat, and life. “From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed, CHILD of the SUN, refulgent Summer comes, In pride of youth, and felt through Nature’s depth; He comes, attended by the _Hours_ And ever-fanning _Breezes_, on his way; While from his ardent look, the turning _Spring_ Averts her blushful face; and earth and skies, All-smiling, to his hot dominion leaves. … “When now, no more the alternate Twins are fired, And Cancer reddens with the Solar blaze, Short is the doubtful empire of the Night; And soon, observant of approaching Day, The meek-eyed Morn appears, mother of Dews, At first faint-gleaming in the dappled East; Till far o’er Ether spreads the widening glow; And, from before the luster of her face, White break the clouds away.” Had our poetic friend, Thompson, lived in Meadville or New York, instead of London, he would not even on the 21st of June, have been so much disposed to sing: “Short is the doubtful empire of the Night;”