268 LITERARY SKETCHES. but it is the still small voice, that always does the work. In the order of Him who rules, the greatest consequences from the most inconsiderable of causes happen. Turn your eyes, then, from the great and mighty. The kings of the earth are as grasshoppers, and men of war as straws. But behold yonder, on the brow of that secluded eminence, a quiet convent. Silence and serenity reign about its walls. Within, in an inner cell, there is a humble monk, plying at his books. Among the number of volumes lying round, the Bible has a conspicuous place. That monk has spent his life in reading it. His spirit has long burned with its holy doctrines. His soul has long ago tasted of the sweet waters that gush up from this pure fountain. For years he has been a convert to truth, and now begins to feel like becoming its apostle. But to whom shall he lisp his feel night of eternal oblivion in the grave. I repeatand every heart will give its echo-without religion, without the Bible, this world is no place for man. But if the Bible be not read-if it is held back by the hand of power-we are no better for having a revelation. What a fearful responsibility, then, rests upon that so-called, but false-hearted Church, which, for ten hundred years, did its utmost to keep the blessed Bible from the world. Catholicism, from the sixth to the sixteenth century, sealed up the book of knowledge and the book of God. Pains and tortures were threatened against him who should dare to break a seal, or even attempt to break one. The curses of the Pope, of all the bishops, of that entire militant Church, were pronounced upon a man of such noble daring. The power of excommunication from the Church on earth, and, as those ages thought, from the Churchings? God sends him the very man. The mission in heaven, was lodged in him, whose very existence depended on his crushing at once all efforts at reform. The sword was also in his hands. Kings and potentates of the highest grade bowed and trembled before his throne. The most vigilant watch was kept over the movements of all countries; and the world was roused or settled by the nod of a single man. is suggested the heart of his friend receives it-the work is concerted-the voice is uttered-the sympathies of mankind are awakened-the apostle rises up in the majesty of his calling, pronounces the doom of despotism and idolatry, suffers his short life out for his race, and the world is free. The Bible once more shines out as the light of heaven, and LUTHER, clothed with its highest splendors, stands forth as the great Christian pioneer for all time to come! But I have been betrayed by my feelings, and the laws of association, into a long ramble from my original design. All these thoughts I found clustering around a single venerated name. Before sitting down to write, I had been thinking of the sainted Wesley, and tracing backward and forward his glorious career. Following it back into the past, I had seen it connected with the first principle of the Reformation, and consequently with every thing prepar Who, then, shall rise up and bring the word of God from its long concealment? Who shall bind the strong man, and despoil him of his glorious treasure? Indeed, who shall do it? The Bible was made for man. It was given to teach him his duties and relations to throw its benign influences around his home and fireside-to invest the works of nature, the world we live in, with a celestial splendor-to soothe all our sorrows, heal all our bruises, and unbind every burden-to visit us in our afflictions, comfort us in our distresses, and, in the hour of our departure, draw a sweet halo around our bedside, and point out the bright track of the disentangledatory to that event. Attending it downward to our spirit to its happy home far above the storms that surround this lower world. But there lies that blessed Bible, sealed and guarded. O, would some convulsion threaten, some earthquake rumble, some voice from heaven thunder, and annihilate its keeper! Would that a strong angel-that angel, whose flaming sword pierced hell's tyrant, and flashed lightnings after him in his eternal fall-come forth, commissioned to transfix the monster, and hurl him into chaos, as food for its birds of prey! Nay, let Him arise, whose step makes heaven's rocky pavement tremble-whose eye withers all who look upon him as a foe-whose fiat, but once uttered, would reduce the solid universe to vapor, and crush at a blow all being but his own-let him stand forth and do the mighty deed! Nay, hush! disordered fancy. This is not the way of Him who sent deliverance to the world beforewho, in an hour of darker peril, saved our race and us by the Babe of Bethlehem. It is not the tempest-it is not the thunder-it is not the earthquake, own days, I had beheld it spreading its influence over the east and west, at all times characterized as a school of pioneers. Methodism has ever been the very embodiment of the pioneer spirit, and has filled the world {with missionaries burning with a quenchless zeal. Its great glory has been, from the very day of its birth, to leave the settled and established portions of the globe, and hover as a guardian spirit on the ever-advancing frontier. When the trail of the savage was our only highway, and the beaver's dam the only bridge in the land, then came the solitary itinerant, with Bible and hymn-book, to proclaim the news of a glorious salvation in these forests wild. True, he came not as the representative of a powerful order. His friends behind him were neither numerous nor strong. His pockets were in general most scantily provided, and he expected in his labors no earthly reward. But, in the name of his Master, he came here, and suffered and toiled through his day. Wherever he went, God sanctioned his labors, and he scattered the seeds of salvation wide over the land. A NONPAREIL. The seeds have sprung up, the showers have descended, and the fruit of his toiling is the harvest we see. How many could be named, in this day of our glory, whose lives were devoted to the lonely work of a bold pioneer. There are Lee, and Hall, and Pickering, and Mudge, and Kent, and Webb, and Broadhead, and Taylor, and Sabin, and Merrill, and Merritt, and Beale, in New England. Farther west, there are Rankin, and Garretson, and Ware, and Sandford, and Sargeant, and Clarke, and Merwin, and many others of the same order. Still farther, such men as Fillmore, and Garey, and Harman, and Grant, and Story, and Puffer, and Peck, and Dempster, have preserved the line unbroken. Then, as we follow the setting sun, such spirits as Young, and Finley, and Quinn, and Bigelow, and Ruter, and Cartwright, and Sale, and Strange, and Havens, and Akers, and Elliott, and Wiley, and a score of the living and the dead, have kept the torch of old Methodism blazing. In the frozen north, we have Case, and Coats, and Bangs, and Ryerson, as the morning stars of the Wesleyan reformation. In the sunny south, the names of Mead, and Jackson, and Dougherty, and Kendrick, and Blackman, and Wells, and Roszel, and Kenneday, and others of equal zeal, will receive their share of glory in the recorded triumphs of our cause. But, then, what shall be said of our episcopacy, of such men as Asbury, and Whatcoat, and M'Kendree, and George, and Roberts, not to mention those now in the work, who traveled through the length and breadth of the land, unfurling, in the newest, as well as in the oldest regions, the purple but peaceful banner of the cross? It may be thought by some, that I overrate the character of Methodist preachers, by placing their names side by side with those of Bacon, and Petrarch, and Washington, and Luther. Believe it not, gentle reader, believe it not! Though some are doubtless unfaithful, a good Methodist minister is worthy of the company in which I have placed him. No one has staked more-no one has labored against greater difficulties and dangers-no one has surpassed him in zeal and fidelity for the cause of humanity and of God. I will, therefore, write his name just here, where I do write it, high up amidst the blaze of patriotism and glory shed down upon us by the greatest benefactors of mankind. There it must stand, and no man shall dare to erase it. These old fathers, to whom I have referred you, are worthy of double honor. They fought the battle for us in an early day, and we have entered into their labors. But they are rapidly passing away from us. Soon they will be gone, and we shall have nothing of them left to us, but their work and the places where we lay them. But they will not be forgotten. At early dawn, and as the thoughtful evening twilight closes in, our children, and our children's children shall be diligently instructed to go out, and drop the tear of gratitude upon their lowly graves. 269 Heaven shall guard them in their humble rest; and when the voice of the archangel shall raise the dead, these shall come up in unsullied honor, and enjoy the fruit of their abundant labors. But I must here close. A whole volume of impressions and recollections rushes into my mind; but I have already wandered much too long. Our ramble together, gentle reader, has been through a forest of all sorts of thoughts, and you are undoubtedly weary of it. But, judging from my own experience on similar occasions, when the fatigue is over, and rest has given you refreshment and a time for looking about you, perhaps you may feel the better for the excursion. You may, possibly, have picked up something worthy of preservation. At all events, I trust you will not forget, the longest day you live, to pay due respect to the memories of the world's noble-hearted pioneers. Make yourself familiar with their glorious deeds, and a new light will shine upon your own path. You may, by thinking of their works, catch their sympathies, and yourself become a future pioneer. A NONPAREIL. WE frequently hear it said that such a gentleman, or such a lady, is a nonpareil; and many persons may have wondered to know precisely the meaning of this term. Nonpareil is a word derived from the French. Its radical signification is, unparalleled. A nonpareil is, therefore, a person in some sense unparalleled by his associates. It may apply to manners, learning, beauty, or any other high accomplishment of the mind or person. It would particularly designate any thing which had been formed out of many single excellences combined. The picture of the old classic artist, who conceived it by selecting and contemplating a number of the greatest beauties of ancient Greece, was emphatically a nonpareil; and it is probable, that the great Stratford bard had an eye on the manner in which that picture was wrought out, when he penned this poetic definition of our word: "But you, O you, So perfect, and so peerless, are created I will only add, for the sake of my juvenile readers, that the word is pronounced, in ordinary English, just as if it were spelt nonparrélle. It is a very good word for common use; while its precision of meaning, and the great number of liquid letters composing it, render it suitable for poetry. With me it is rather a favorite, because I am attached to the idea of which it is the name. I admire I love every thing that even approaches to perfection; and for this reason I love God, who, of all in the universe, is the only being in every sense unequaled. He is, therefore, the only NONPAREIL. VENUS TRANSITS. BY PROFESSOR WATERMAN. VENUS is the brightest planet that adorns the evening sky. Owing to its variable distance from the Earth, and its relative position with reference to the sun and Earth, its apparent brilliancy is much greater at certain times than at others. When nearest the Earth, she is only about twenty-seven millions of miles distant: when most remote, about one hundred and sixty-three millions. Being interior to the Earth, when nearest to us, her whole illuminated hemisphere is turned toward the sun; and consequently she is then invisible, being in conjunction with the sun. As she recedes from the sun she appears as a slender crescent, somewhat resembling the moon two or three days after passing the sun. As she recedes apparently further from the sun, and more of her illuminated hemisphere is turned toward the Earth, she does in reality recede from the Earth. When she presents a full illuminated disc to us, she is at her greatest remove from us; and, consequently, her light is much diminished by the distance. It is found that her greatest brilliancy is when about onefourth of her disc is illuminated. At such a time, and in favorable circumstances, her light is sufficient, in the absence of the moon, to cast a distinctly visible shadow. I have several times observed this. At one time the shadow on a wall was sufficiently distinct to be readily traced with a piece of chalk. Venus is usually known as the morning and evening star. As such she was known to the ancients. When the morning star, she was called Phosphor; and when seen in the evening, she obtained the appellation of Hesperus. Her beauty has elicited the muses' admiration. And one of the cherished children of song has thus described her: "Next Mercury, Venus runs her larger round, From realms remote she darts her pleasing ray, The mean distance of Venus from the sun is about sixty-eight millions of miles-rotation on its axis every twenty-three hours and twenty-one minutesrevolution in its orbit, 224 days 16 hours-mean rate in its orbit, 80,000 miles per hour. As above intimated, Venus, during the period between any two conjunctions or oppositions, exhibits all the phases of the moon. The cause of this was explained in the preceding article on Mercury. From the fact that the Earth is also in motion, the time occupied in going through all the changes from full to full, is considerably longer than that occupied in making an entire revolution around the sun. fact, the time is more than double that of a revolution, being nearly 584 days. To the eye of a casual observer, Venus appears to oscillate from one side of the sun to the other, sometimes passing over his disc, and at other times being concealed behind it. The planet, however, is never seen to recede further than about forty-seven degrees from the sun. Consequently, it is never seen at midnight, although it is not unfrequently seen, during a partial eclipse of the sun, at noonday. For the reasons of this we must again refer our readers to the article on Mercury. Constitution of Venus. In point of density Venus is somewhat inferior to the Earth. A pound of matter on the Earth, if transported to the surface of this planet, would weigh but fifteen ounces and ten drams. It is also somewhat less in size than the Earth, its diameter being 100 miles shorter than our own. According to Schroeter, Venus is surrounded by an atmosphere somewhat similar to our own, but very much denser. This atmosphere seems to extend to a great distance from the surface of the planet. So great is its density, within some three miles of the surface of Venus, that it is the probable cause of the indistinctness with which the immediate surface is clothed. Although, at times, we are not further than some 27,000,000 of miles from her, yet more indistinctness attaches even then to the character of her surface, than to that of many of the other planets even double and quadruple that distance. The surface of this planet, as far as known, presents some striking differences from any thing terrestrial. One of the chief of these is found in the height of its mountains. Schroeter, one of the most indefatigable and accurate of observers, has, by nice micrometrical measurements, determined the perpendicular height of four of these, which is as follows: Perpendicular height of the first, twenty-two miles; of the second, nineteen miles; of the third, eleven and a half miles, and of the fourth, ten and three-quarter miles. In this we see clearly another illustration of the fact which Deity has stamped upon all the works of his hands, namely, that he is not confined to one plan or model in building and fitting up the innumerable worlds which his omnipotence has called into existence, and furnished for the accommodation and gratification of his intelligent creatures. Variety is everywhere impressed on his works. How delightful to spend eternity in learning the manifold wisdom of God, as displayed in these creations of his omnipotent power! Has Venus a moon? This is a question which has long been open to investigation and discussion. Cassini, a very eminent astronomer, thought he had discovered such an attendant. Others subsequently have thought the same. No certain evidences, however, have yet been adduced. And it is proper here to say, that this is a subject which is now elicitIning the investigation of some of the best practical DECEPTION. astronomers. And with the improvements that have been made in late years in the construction of optical instruments, and the skill so many have attained in making nice observations, it is probable that not many years will elapse before the existence of such an attendant-if it really have an existence-will be ascertained and made known. Transits. Venus and Mercury being within the orbit of the Earth, and the planes of their orbits being but little inclined to that of the Earth, are observed sometimes to pass before the sun, and sometimes behind it. In the former case, the planet appears as a small speck passing over the disc of the central luminary. This is called a transit. In the case of Venus, this phenomenon occurs at regular intervals of about eight, and one hundred and thirteen years. The transits of Mercury are not thus regular. The last one was on the 8th of May, 1845. The next will occur on the 9th of November, 1848. The last transit of Venus occurred in 1769. The next will take place on the 9th of December, 1874, which will be followed by another on the 6th of December, 1882, when another interval of one hundred and thirteen years will elapse before the same phenomenon will again be witnessed. These transits are of very great importance in determining the true distance of the Earth from the sun. To illustrate this, let us suppose two observers at opposite points on the Earth's surface at the time of a transit. This can only take place when Venus is in a line with the Earth and sun. Consequently, the distance between the Earth and Venus will be about 27,000,000 of miles, as before stated. Let the observer, at the first point, notice accurately the point of the sun's disc which the centre of the planet first strikes, and trace the course of the planet until it passes entirely off. The observer at the second station does the same. Since the distance between the three bodies is appreciable, the second observer will not see the planet in the same position as the first, on account of the angle of parallax. Nor will the line which the planet traces, as seen by the second, be the same as seen by the first. The distance between these two lines would measure the parallax. These two lines being thus ascertained, and the distance between them being measured, a simple geometrical proportion gives us the required distance. Thus: the distance between the two observers will be to the distance between the two observed tracks of the planet, as the distance of the planet from the Earth is to the distance of the planet from the sun. These distances, independently ascertained, are, respectively, 27,000,000 and 68,000,000 of miles, and their ratio nearly as two and a half to one. The distance between these lines of transit, therefore, is two and a half times greater than the Earth's apparent diameter at the distance of the sun; that is, it is equal to five times the sun's horizontal parallax. Knowing, then, the distance between the observers, 271 and the distance between the planet and the Earth, we can readily determine the distance between the Earth and the sun. "The results of all the observations made on the transits which happened in 1761 and 1769, gives about eight and a half seconds as the horizontal parallax of the sun, which makes his distance 95,000,000 of miles. This distance is considered, by the most enlightened astronomers, as within one-fiftieth part of the true distance of the sun from the Earth; so that no future observations will alter the distance so as to increase or diminish it by more than 2,000,000 of miles." These transits are deemed of so much moment in determining distances, that, at the time of the last two, many of the European states sent out scientific expeditions to different parts of the world simply to make observations. This was the principal object of the English expedition to the islands of the Pacific, under the illustrious but ill-fated Captain Cook. So great an improvement has been made in all the necessary instruments, and so much greater accuracy has been attained in the construction of astronomical tables, since that period, that the next transit of this planet may be looked forward to as determining within very narrow limits the true distance between us and the centre around which we revolve. In the meantime, diligent use is made of those of Mercury in effecting the same purpose, by verifying preceding observations and calculations, or correcting the errors then made. So far has this already been carried, that it is scarcely possible that an error of one million miles can now exist. The Earth's distance cannot be less than 94,000,000, nor greater than 96,000,000. DECEPTION. NOTHING in this life is more to be dreaded than a deceitful person. Whether male or female, that person is worse in society than a small pestilence. I shall not describe how deception is practiced; for this might be teaching some youthful reader to deceive. Better is it to know how to avoid it in ourselves. Let us always be frank and open. It is far better to be occasionally injured through too great frankness, than to acquire the habit of excessive concealment. At all events, let your friends know what you are doing, or you will soon have no friends to trouble you. Confidence begets confidence; but if you confide nothing to your friends, they will soon lose all confidence in you. Above all things, fair reader, be not deceived and flattered by a smile. The Savior was betrayed by a kiss, and many a heart has been broken by a laughing face. Commit to the keeping of your heart these lines of Moore: "As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow, 272 DOING GOOD. BY REV. R. W. ALLEN. "Who went about doing good." DOING GOOD. BLESSED thought! Doing good! Who would not do good to the full extent of his ability? What Christian is unwilling to consecrate all his powers to the service of his blessed Lord? Can there be one? What, a Christian, a follower of Him of whom it was said, he "went about doing good," and yet unwilling to do his will! It cannot be. The Christian is not his own, "but bought with a price; therefore, he should glorify God in his body and in his spirit, which are his." He is called upon to judge, "that if one died for all, then were all dead; and that He died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him who died for them, and rose again." The grand principle of every Christian's vocation is this: "None of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself; for whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord. Whether we live, therefore, or die, we are the Lord's." Every Christian is under the most solemn obligations here. The authority is imperative. None can excuse themselves from engaging, with all their talents and opportunities, in the cause of God. The commands of Heaven cannot be disobeyed with impunity. "To him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin." "And that servant which knew his Lord's will, and prepared not himself, neither did according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes." What Christian does not know his duty? Who can excuse himself from doing good on the ground of ignorance? None, consistently. It is too late in the day. "Thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee." I. What are we to understand by doing good? To what objects are our efforts to be particularly directed? 1. We are to do good to the bodies of men. Physical evil and suffering everywhere abound-abound, too, in many instances, to a fearful and an alarming extent. How many are incarcerated in dungeons-in cells! How many occupy apartments the most filthy, lothsome, and degrading! How many are suffering through neglect, hunger, and disease! How many "are ground to the dust," under the hand of oppression! How many are pining away on their wearisome couch, and are fast sinking to the tomb! What a spectacle is here exhibited, though we have but a glance at the picture! What a field is here presented for unceasing effort in doing good! Who will aid in the noble work of feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the prisoner, and administering assistance and consolation to the afflicted, especially to the sick? Remember, if you do it from right motives, and with a proper spirit, you will not lose your reward. "Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: naked, and ye clothed me: in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? or a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? or sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? Then the King will answer and say unto them, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Their reward is "life eternal." Who would not share it in that day? 2. We are to do good to the souls of men. The soul, though created in the image of its Maker, has fallen-strangely and awfully fallen: it has become exceedingly corrupt. Its original power and purity are gone. Its noble powers have been pervertedits energies misdirected. It has lost its orbit, and its erratic course is one of wretchedness, danger, and ruin. We have striking proof of man's depravity in the scenes and practices of "everyday life." We have here witnessed too often the sad truth, that man, being "made in honor, abode not." His love of sin, his hatred to God, his disobedience to the divine commands, the profaneness, licentiousness, intemperance, Sabbath-breaking, theft, idolatry, avarice, lust, pride, profligacy, and sensuality, which are seen, to some extent, in nearly all ranks, classes, and conditions of society, all, all proclaim the awful fact that man has fallen. In the fall, man's intellectual faculties have suffered, greatly suffered. His understanding-how "darkened!" How true it is, that "there are none that understandeth!" His imagination-how wild and extravagant! He is characterized by being "vain in his imaginations." His reason-that faculty by which we compare things, and pass judgment on what is discovered by the understandinghow weak, partial, false! His memory, that noble treasure-house of the soul, now the repository of all that is foul, lothsome, and abominable! We may extend the description, but we forbear. The picture is sufficiently large to see what must be done. Mind must be redeemed-its powers quickened, expanded, enlarged. From its ignorance, which has seized it with an iron grasp, it must be disenthralled. Science, hallowed by Christian influence, must pour its flood of light upon its darkened faculties. A vast work here to be accomplished! Who will dive into the pool of intellectual ignorance, and, seizing the prey from the monster, bring up the gems of immortal mind, "flashing with the light of intellect?" |