much of the wisdom of the Infinite Mind do all these nice adjustings of antagonistic powers display. Well may the proud, ambitious spirit of man be humbled into the very dust, as he beholds these wondrous exhibitions of wisdom and power. If the dis{covery of them afford so much real enjoyment in this life, what must be the intellectual happiness of that mind which is permitted to spend an eternity in discoveries of the greatness, wisdom, and goodness of the almighty Architect, as displayed in every department of the physical universe! Nothing short of ETERNITY Will suffice to reveal the whole. Who, then, would not be a Christian!

MIND AND SCIENCE.

of an inch to remedy this difficulty. A word of explanation may here be necessary. The oscillations of the pendulum are performed under the influence of gravitation. With a given length of pendulum, the nearer the centre of the Earth the more rapid the oscillations, and vice versa. But at any given place, the time of a vibration depends upon the length of the pendulum. If, for instance, there be three pendulums whose length are as one, four, and nine respectively, the oscillations of the second will require twice the time of the first, and the third three times. When, therefore, these gentlemen found it necessary to shorten their pendulum, the irresistible conclusion was, that they were further removed from the centre of gravity at Cayenne than at Paris, or, in other words, that the Earth was thicker in one part than in another. A new series of experiments were instituted in order to ascertain the amount of variation. In the "Memoirs of the Royal Astronomical Society," are found the results of observations in seventy-nine different latitudes. These most strikingly coincide, in the general truth elicited, with the results of the measurement of degrees given above, and most conclusively prove that the Earth is an oblate spheroid, protuberant at the equator, and flattened at the poles. There is one other very singular fact connected with this part of the subject which I cannot omit, as it shows how often truth isning glory to have well nigh departed. Though the discovered, as it were, by accident. By the table of measurements given above, the polar diameter of the Earth is to the equatorial nearly as 299 to 300. The fact to which I allude is thus stated by Gum

mere:

"A homogeneous fluid of the same mean density with the Earth, and revolving on its axis in the same time that the Earth does, would be in equilibrium, if it had the figure of an oblate spheroid, of which the axis was to the equatorial diameter as 229 to 230. If the fluid mass, supposed to revolve on its axis, be not homogeneous, but be composed of strata that increase in density toward the centre, the solid of equilibrium will still be an elliptic spheroid, but of less oblateness than if it were homogeneous. Hence, as the ellipticity of the Earth is less than 1-230, being about 1-300, it is evident, that if the Earth is a spheroid of equilibrium, it is denser toward the interior."

Here was a new field for observation and experiment. The conclusion reached from investigation instituted is, that the mean density of mountains on the surface, is, to the mean density of the Earth, as 5 is to 9. Here, then, we are, as if by accident, introduced to the fact that the density of the Earth increases toward the centre-a fact which a variety of subsequent experiments and observations fully corroborate.

It was my intention to have alluded to some of the astronomical phenomena connected with the seasons. But the length already of this article forbids a further encroachment upon the reader's patience. I will, therefore, conclude by simply remarking how VOL. VI.-44

BY PROFESSOR E. W. MERRILL.

FROM the days the blind old man of Chios' rocky isle tuned the lyre of war, and embodied in his immortal verse the history, philosophy, and literature of his time, the march of the human mind, in science and knowledge, has been onward. It has developed new and untried resources for the display of its energies and capabilities. True, there was a period when its splendor seemed to grow dim, and its wa

murky clouds of a thousand years settled down upon the intellectual grandeur of the human mind, there was power enough left to clear its horizon, and succeed the darkness that had enveloped it with a greater degree of light and glory. Since that period, its progress, though unsteady-occasionally flashing forth like the blaze of a comet-has been rapidly advancing. The heavens and the earth have contributed to its wealth; the sea has not kept back its stores to increase the funds and enrich the treasures of the human mind.

And such is its nature that it has no resting-place. Its powers are ever expanding, developing new beauties and excellences, and increasing in splendor, like the rising sun, whose dawning rays but faintly illume the outlines of the globe, advancing in its course till it pours its meridian beams, not only upon every hill top, but into every valley; or, it is like that same mighty luminary in its downward course, receding from its noonday glory, till its golden effulgence is gradually swallowed up in the shades of night. The development of intellect is a matter of individual as well as national interest. The laws and the means by which the powers of the human mind are revealed and brought to bear in their influence upon society, is a subject of interest to every lover of science and literature.

As he is the only being endowed with both soul and a material body, man may be considered the central point where unite the world of mind and the world of matter; and hence it is that his education

346

MIND AND SCIENCE.

to the use of man. It has penetrated into every secret nook of the great laboratory of Nature, culling her treasures, and disposing them at its will-reign

tress. It has disposed every vegetable in regular order, from the spire of grass that we tread beneath our feet to the gigantic banian of India. The mineral kingdom, too, it has arranged in beautiful regularity, from the gem that sparkles in the socket of the lady's ring to those rock-ribbed piles whose cloud-capped summits are lost to the naked eye.

is two-fold-that of an intellectual and that of a physical being, united in the same mysterious organization. But inasmuch as the mind lives when the body ceases to exist, ay, infinite in its duration, iting triumphantly as Nature's lawful sovereign misfollows, as a matter of course, that the development of its powers, or, in a word, its education is of vastly more importance than that of the body. We might stop to inquire, what is the human mind? but we are baffled in the investigation. It fails to explain itself; philosophy is unable to fathom its mysteries, and we can give only the vague and unsatisfactory answer, that it is a thinking, reasoning, immaterial, and immortal principle. Though comparatively impotent and ignorant as we are for the investigation of mind, we know enough of its nature and duration to convince us that its cultivation and improvement-the disclosing its innate energies-are paramount to every other pursuit that can engage the attention of man: doubly so, if its discipline, commenced here, is to progress through the ceaseless ages of eternity.

The whole animal creation, from the animalcule that constitutes one of the thousand inhabitants of a drop of water to the huge mammoth that once roamed over the desert, has bowed to the mild sceptre of Science, and acknowledged her conqueror. Superstition and ignorance, magnified by mystery, like the sun in the fogs of the morning, once viewed the volcano either as a vast expiatory altar sending up its spiral incense to imperial Jove, or an immensely blazing furnace, at which the outcast, limp

derbolts by which mankind were taught their accountability to a red-hot agency. Modern science has explained those sublime phenomena of nature, and shown that they are the safety-valves of this mundane sphere, through which are discharged those internal vapors that might otherwise find vent in regions more fearfully exposed. Indeed, science ranges through all nature, and having traced through nature up to nature's God, there stands its votary by the eternal throne, and sends out his enraptured gaze over a conquered universe. He glows as he contemplates; and while his soul grows big with emotion, from his trembling lips bursts forth the hallowed exclamation, "Thou, O God, hast created all; thy wisdom planned, and thy goodness perfected!"

As words are the signs of ideas, we may considering Vulcan was doomed to manufacture those thunthem the elements or instruments in the hands of the man of letters by which, in their immensely varied forms, he presents us the grand conceptions of an investigating mind. These words, as they stand arrayed in the dictionary of the most profound genius, are as dull and lifeless as the cold marble in the room of the sculptor; but as he takes them from his lexicon, and transfers them to his paper, arranged into sentences, what importance does he attach to their meaning! They then speak an intelligible language, breathing an inspiration into the soul of others. They indeed represent "thoughts that breathe," and become "words that burn." At one time they reveal the sublime laws of nature, the profound mysteries of philosophy, unravel the intricacies of science, or portray the poet's fairest imagery. In skillful hands they take us to the centre of the earth, and explain the laws of attraction, and then away to the interior of the sun, and mark out our course around that mighty luminary. Again, they cause the smoldering ruins of antiquity to rise up in mournful grandeur before us. Now the elements are at war, the ocean heaves and swells, its mountain waves dash in terrific majesty upon its rockbound coast. Again, they paint the beautiful hues of the lily, the fine tints of the rainbow, and the gilding of the landscape by the golden rays of the setting sun. They speak in every tone, "from the thunderings of the warlike muse to the melting accents of the lyre."

Romulus Silvius, of classic story, was wise enough to order his soldiers to strike their spears upon their shields, to produce an imitation of the thunder of Olympius; but of the phenomena of the real thunder and lightning of the heavens he knew as little as a Choctaw of a printing press. What floods of light and glory has modern science thrown upon that grand artillery of the skies! Why does the rude savage spend his life in wandering over the desert with his bow and tomahawk? He stands on the mountain's brow and glances his eagle eye over his wide-spread hunting grounds-views the beauty and loveliness of nature beneath and around him— listens to the babbling rivulet, or the cataract's roar: the sweet notes of the feathered choir fall upon his while the gentle zephyr regales him with the perfumes of the forest; but, alas! poor unlettered man, there he stands with stoical indifference-no emotions of the sublime fire his soul and elevate his thoughts-he admires not, and is not led to adore.

ear,

When we speak of the human mind in regard to its development and progress, it should not be abstractly considered, but as the grand rallying point of science, without which it would be as impotent as an Alexander or Cæsar to make conquests without armies. Science, then, with the mind for its commander, has rendered the very elements subservient { Why such insensibility to the beauty, grandeur, and

RANDOM THOUGHTS.

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CANDOR OF INFIDELITY.

it brings the joys of heaven. To the king in his palace, and the beggar in his hovel, it opens the gates of paradise. To the inhabitants of the frozen north, and the son of the burning south, it comes with equal joy. In whatever portion of our stricken world a degenerate child of Adam pines in sin, there is found the Spirit of God ready to do its happy work.

That one who enjoys this religion possesses a priceless blessing. This world has no equal joy; for pure religion affords comfort and consolation, even to the sorrowing and distressed in their deepest anguish.

"Earth hath no sorrows it cannot cure;" and the language of every heart should be,

"Give me Jesus, and you may have all this world;" for the true Christian, in prosperity or adversity, in sunshine or in storm, feels the Spirit of God sweetly playing around his heart, while, in the darkest hour, faith's strong vision pierces the intervening clouds, and sings with rapturous joy,

"Yonder's my house and portion fair,

My treasure and my heart are there,
And my abiding home."

J.

CANDOR OF INFIDELITY. As a general rule, infidel writers display much unfairness and bitterness of spirit in their attacks on the Christian system. What they consider its defects, are held up with the, severest ridicule; and even the good they allow it possesses, is represented as being borrowed from Pagan philosophy. Nothing can be more strongly evincive of the depravity of their hearts, than this inveterate hatred to that which, in itself, is so pure, so elevating, and so divine. 66 They love the darkness rather than the light, because their deeds are evil." Occasionally, however, a superior spirit is seen soaring above the low regions of hate and moral gloom, and exhibiting its glorious and attractive candor. Rosseau, the celebrated French infidel, has uttered a eulogy on the excellency of the sacred Scriptures and the moral grandeur of the Savior, that has never been surpassed, for truth of sentiment, force of expression, and beauty of style, by any other writer, Christian or moral. In introducing it to the reader, we would simply ask, what must be the intrinsic worth of the Christian system, when some of its very enemies are overpowered with admiration at its essential principles?

the work of man? Is it possible that the sacred personage, whose history it contains, should be himself a mere man? Do we find that he assumed the tone of an enthusiast or ambitious sectary? What sweetness, what purity in his manners! What an affecting gracefulness in his delivery! What sublimity in his maxims! What profound wisdom in his discourses! What presence of mind in his replies! How great the command over his passions! Where is the man-where the philosopher, who could so live and so die, without weakness and without ostentation? When Plato described his imaginary good man, with all the shame of guilt, yet meriting the highest rewards of virtue, he described exactly the character of Jesus Christ: the resemblance was so striking that all the Christian fathers perceived it.

"What prepossession, what blindness must it be, to compare the son of Sophronicus [Socrates] to the Son of Mary! What an infinite disproportion is there between them! Socrates dying without pain or ignominy, easily supported his character to the last: and if his death, however easy, had not crowned his life, it might have been doubted whether Socrates, with all his wisdom, was any thing more than a vain sophist. He invented, it is said, the theory of morals. Others, however, had before put them in practice: he had only to say, therefore, what they had done, and to reduce their examples to precept. But where could Jesus learn among his competitors that pure and sublime morality, of which he only has given us both precept and example! The death of Socrates, peaceably philosophizing with his friends, appears the most agreeable that could be wished for; that of Jesus, expiring in the midst of agonizing pains, abused, insulted, and accused by a whole nation, is the most horrible that could be feared. Socrates, in receiving the cup of poison, blessed the weeping executioner who administered it; but Jesus, in the midst of excrutiating tortures, prayed for his merciless tormentors. Yes! if the life and death of Socrates were those of a sage, the life and death of Jesus were those of a God. Shall we suppose the evangelic history a mere fiction! Indeed, my friend, it bears not the marks of fiction; on the contrary, the history of Socrates, which nobody presumes to doubt, is not so well attested as that of Jesus Christ. Such a supposition, in fact, only shifts the difficulty, without obviating it; it is more inconceivable, that a number of persons should agree to write such a history, than that one only should furnish the subject of it. The Jewish authors were incapable of the diction, and strangers to the morality contained in the Gospel, the marks of whose truth are so striking and inimitable, that the inventor would be a more aston

"I will confess to you that the majesty of the Scriptures strikes me with admiration, as the purity of the Gospel has its influence on my heart. Perusoishing man than the hero." the works of our philosophers, with all their pomp of diction: how mean, how contemptible are they, compared with the Scriptures! Is it possible that a book, at once so simple and sublime, should be merely

LOVELINESS is always the most interesting when perfectly natural and unassumed.

TO THE LOST PLEIAD.-SONG OF THE FOUNTAIN.