whilst the sun and the objects which immediately surround us were visible; but all the rays which fell on bodies placed at a certain distance would be reflected in a right line, and lost in the extent of the heavens. Thus, though the sun was placed immediately over our heads, we might yet experience a sort of night, if the atmosphere did not intervene between us and the luminary.

To recapitulate then all the advantages which the air produces to our globe: it preserves life, as being the principle of respiration to living creatures; through its medium winged animals fly, and those which inhabit the waters are enabled to swim; it serves for the propagation of sound, and conduces to the formation of vapours, rain, and wind; it is essential to the fertilization of the earth, favours the vegetation of plants, and by its agitation disperses the noxious vapours which exhale from different bodies. If air did not surround our globe, the light and heat of the sun would be insufficient for our purposes; sounds could not be transmitted, consequently our organs of speech would be useless: in short, the advantages which the air produces to the human race are without number; and if we accustomed ourselves to contemplate with an attentive mind this great agent of nature, we should be more and more led to exalt the works and the glory of God. If any have hitherto neglected this pleasing duty by having taken only a superficial view of the creation, and whilst they enjoyed the blessings of nature their hearts have not bowed before the presence of God, I beseech them, as they value their own happiness and well-being, to endeavour in future to become attentive spectators and observers of the works of God; for they who consider them with attention, and investigate them with ardour, are rewarded with a pleasure pure and unceasing: the study of nature is a source of everlasting joy, the springs of which never fail.

APRIL X.

DIVERSITY OF SOIL.

The soil of the earth is not the same in all places; the upper bed is generally formed of a black, friable, and rich earth, which being mixed with the remains of plants and animal matter, becomes the nourishing parent of the many thousands of vegetables which enrich our globe. This bed often varies in quality; at one place it is light and sandy, at another clayey and heavy; sometimes it is moist, sometimes dry; here warm, and there cold. Hence we find that plants, and herbs, which in some countries grow spontaneously, in others will not succeed without art and cultivation; and this diversity of soil is also frequently the cause why vegetables of the same species differ amongst themselves, according to the nature of the soil in which they grow. In this the wisdom of the Creator is conspicuous: if all soils were alike, and possessed the same qualities and constituent

parts, we should be deprived of many thousands of vegetables, as each species of plants requires a soil analogous to its nature. Some require a soil which is dry, others one that is moist; to some warmth is necessary, and to others cold; some flourish better in the shade, whilst others only expand in the sun; some again thrive on mountains, whilst the greater number prefer the valleys. Hence it happens that every country has a certain number of plants peculiar to it, and which do not thrive so well in others. If the elder is transplanted into a sandy soil, and the willow into one which is dry and rich, it will be found that neither will succeed so well in a soil different from that to which it has been accustomed. Thus nature provides for each that soil which is best adapted for its culture, each species growing in the soil most analogous to its constitution. It is true, that art often forces nature to produce according to our wishes; but the effects of this opposition do not always repay our trouble and expense, and nature, in the end, is found superior to all the researches of skill and operations of art.

As the soil is infinitely varied, so also is the character and disposition of men. There are some whose hearts are too insensible to profit by instruction, whom no motive affects, whom no truth, however forcible and evident, awakens from their stupidity. Such a character may be compared to a stony soil, which alike resists the temperature of the air, and the assiduity of culture: a character little superior is that where continual levity predominates. People of this class may receive the salutary impressions of religion and piety; but, if the least obstacle impedes, they are discouraged, and their zeal vanishes as quick as their good resolutions. Such as these are those timid and frivolous people who reject truth because they are afraid to receive it, and in whom piety cannot take root because there is no depth; they resemble the light and dry soils where nothing arrives at maturity, where the scorching heat of the sun dries up every thing, because the soil does not afford the succulent juices necessary to the nourishment of the plants. Happy are they in whom, as in a rich soil, the seeds of virtue mature into an abundant harvest of choice fruits!

On this diversity of disposition, among men, depends more or less the effect which the sacred word produces in their hearts. In vain may the sower sow the best seed, and useless will be his care, if the soil which receives it has not the requisite qualities: the excellence of the seed can never alter the sterility of the soil; which, if so hard and unyielding that the seed cannot enter, or so sandy that it cannot take root, or so stony as to choak it up, will never bring forth good fruit. To whichever class we may belong, whether the impenetrable hardness of our hearts resists every impulse, or the frivolity of our disposition admits of no steady pursuit, we shall readily acknowledge that before the seeds of truth and of virtue can ripen into maturity and produce fruit, before we can attain the enjoyment of felicity and blessed peace, our hearts must be changed. To effect which must be the work of the Holy Spirit; and may the Almighty, in his condescension, assist and enable us to become like the fruitful soil, and,

faithful to our vocation, bring forth abundance of fruit, that, rich in good works, we may preserve the gift of his grace in a good and generous heart.

APRIL XI.

NECESSITY OF REPOSE DURING THE NIGHT.

Labour is useful and necessary to man; upon it depends much of the happiness and convenience of life, and every one, according to his state and condition, should apply himself to it. But by incessant exertion human strength would be speedily exhausted, and man would become incapable of using his bodily powers, or of exerting the faculties of his mind, if nature did not, by continually supplying him with new vigour and activity, enable him to fulfil the duties of his vocation. As we daily lose a portion of our nutritious juices, we should soon become exhausted, and suffer a fatal consumption, was not our vitality continually renewed. This is supposed to be effected, and the ability to labour supported, by a matter inconceivably tenuid and penetrating, secreted from the blood, and called the nervous fluid, which supports the action of the brain and muscles. But the continual dissipation of this fluid would soon exhaust it, and man would become languid and enfeebled, unless the waste was continually repaired.* If the body was kept constantly in a state of action, our aliment could not be digested, nor its nutriment be regularly distributed to every part.

It is necessary then that the labour of the head, as well as the exertion of the body, be for a time suspended, that our wearied nature may regain strength and vigour. Sleep renders us this important service: as night approaches, the powers which have been exerted during the day diminish, our vitality seems to be weakened, and we are irresistibly urged to sleep; during which state, when the activity of thought and the labour of our hands have ceased, our fatigued body acquires new force and fresh vigour. This renovation is as necessary to the body as to the mind; by it our limbs are rendered capable of the greatest alertness, and our mind is enabled to undergo new exertions by its increased activity and the reanimation of all the intellectual faculties.

How culpable are those who, from trifling views, a sordid interest, or the gratification of their passions, deny themselves the necessary portion of sleep! They interrupt the order of nature, which has been established for their good; they destroy their gayety of heart, enervate their bodily strength, and hasten the short period of their existence by inducing a premature old age. Why should we be so foolish

Whatever is the cause of that excitement which stimulates to action, or of the renovation of exhausted strength, the nervous fluid so much talked of has never been discovered; we merely know that the nerves are essential to sensation and life.-E.

R

as to deprive ourselves of a blessing which the bountiful favour of Heaven bestows upon all descriptions of men, upon the poor as well as the rich, upon the learned as upon the ignorant? Why should we shorten our days by refusing the gift which nature offers of prolonging our life by the renovating repose of sleep? The nights may come, when, far from enjoying the sweet refreshment of sleep, tossing on the bed of anguish, we shall be counting the tedious hours as they heavily pass over. Few know or estimate the value of sleep till they have wished for it in vain: and there are nightly many thousands of human beings who, afflicted with diseases or mental agitation, know not the blessing of this sweet restorer of nature.

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APRIL XII.

MAGNITUDE OF THE EARTH.

To determine the exact size of the earth is attended with considerable difficulty: though there is in fact but one longitude, there are two latitudes, the north and the south, both beginning at the equator; the one extending as far north as the arctic pole, the other south to the antartic pole. No one has yet been able to penetrate as far as either pole: for the mountains of ice in Greenland, and the northern sea, have always impeded on the north: and the south is not more accessible. However, by the labours of geometricians, we are enabled pretty nearly to ascertain the dimensions of our globe; and according to the most exact calculations, the surface of the earth contains 199 millions, 512 thousand, 595 square miles. The seas and unknown parts, by a measurement of the best maps, contain 160 millions, 522 thousand, and 26 square miles; and the inhabited parts 38 millions, 990 thousand, 569 square miles, in the following proportion:-Europe 4 millions, 456 thousand and 65; Asia 10 millions, 768 thousand, 823; Africa 9 millions, 654 thousand, 807; America 14 millions, 110 thousand, 874;* which calculations prove that scarcely a third part of the globe is inhabited.

It has been calculated that there might be at least three thousand millions of men upon the earth at once, whilst in reality there are no more than one thousand and eighty millions: of which there are in Asia 650 millions, in Africa 150, in America 150, and in Europe 130 millions. Supposing then that the earth is inhabited by about one thousand millions, and that thirty-three years make a generation, it would follow that in the above space of time a thousand millions will die; consequently the number of those who die upon the earth amounts each year to 30 millions, every day to about 83,400, every hour to 3,475, and every minute to about 57. This calculation is very striking, and will naturally suggest the idea, that since the mor

*Ferguson's Astronomy.

tality of each year, and even of each minute, is so great, it is very probable that we may ourselves very soon increase the bills of mortality. At this very instant some one of our fellow-creatures has paid the debt of nature, and ere the lapse of another hour above three thousand more beings will have bid a final adieu to this state of existence. These considerations are awful, and should lead us to the most serious reflections; they should frequently induce us to reflect upon death, and prepare for eternity.

Immense as the earth may appear, its magnitude sinks into nothing when compared with those spheres, which revolve in the heavens; in comparison of the whole system of the universe, it is no more than as a grain of sand is to the most lofty mountain! How this thought raises my conceptions of the inexpressible grandeur of God, the infinite Creator of the heavens and the earth, in comparison of whom this world, and all the worlds we can conceive, with their multiplied inhabitants, are lighter than chaff before the wind, and of less account than the atoms playing in the sun-beams!

APRIL XIII.

GENERATION OF BIRDS.

About this season of the year nature undergoes a general revolution, highly interesting and well deserving of our attention. This is the time when the joyful birds begin to build their nests and bring forth their tender young; an operation which, though renewed every year, is little regarded.

In each impregnated egg that has not yet been sat upon, a small spot is observed on the yolk, in the centre of which spot is a white circle extending upwards, and appearing to join some small vesicles. In the middle of this circle is a sort of fluid matter, in which swims the embryo of the future chick. It is composed of two lines or white threads, which sometimes appear to be separated from each other at their extremities, and between which a liquid substance is seen of a leaden colour. The extremity of the embryo is contained in a vesicle or small bag, surrounded by a ligament, in which the navel afterward appears. The ligament is partly composed of a solid yellowish matter, and partly of a brown fluid, which is also surrounded by a white circle. These are the chief things observable in an impregnated egg before incubation.

When it has been under the hen about twelve hours, there appears in the lineaments of the embryo a humid matter, which has the form of a little head, and on which vesicles are seen that afterwards form the vertebræ of the back. In thirty hours the place of the navel appears covered with a number of little vessels, and the eyes begin to be distinguishable. The two white threads, which in uniting have left still some space between them, enclose five vesicles, which are