Various other particulars might be mentioned; but I must dismiss the curious subject with this single additional observation, that by the judicious use of these hidden stores, thus providentially laid up, it may yet be in reserve for the ingenuity of man, materially to extend the boundaries of the habitable parts of the earth; bringing water, not miraculously, indeed, as Moses did, but by use of the rational powers with which he is endowed, out of the cleft rock, to cheer the barren wilderness, and to cause "the desert to blossom like the rose." The geological arrangements which we have mentioned, correspond with, and are obviously intended to carry into effect, the beneficent contrivances belonging to the atmosphere. Fresh water evaporated from the salt sea, is held in solution in the air, and borne by currents over the face of the earth, which it moistens and renders fertile, as it passes along, being condensed into clouds, and precipitated in rain. What is redundant, after performing this useful office, flows off by means of springs, uniting into brooks, and then into rivers, which preserving life and diffusing fertility wherever they glide, complete the wonderful circulation of the fluid, by returning to the parent ocean; and thus, while they preserve the balance of the sea and land, afford an additional instance of the wonderful analogies which pervade Nature. Metastasio, in a passage of his dramatic works, has, with great beauty and poetic feeling, employed this tendency of water to find its way back to its original source, in shadowing forth the love that an affectionate heart bears to its native home,—which has been thus elegantly translated by Dr Beattie. I quote from memory : "Rivers from the ocean borne, As the hills are the destined origin of springs and rivers, a remarkable provision is made for the supply of such natural reservoirs, by a far more abundant fall of rain in these elevated situations than on the lower grounds. The amount of this difference is much greater than is generally supposed, as has been proved by various experiments, and may be illustrated by the following, which is stated in the Supplement to the Encyclopedia Britannica, under the article Meteorology. In the neighbourhood of Kinfauns Castle, a rain-gage is placed on the summit of a hill 600 feet above the level of the sea, and another in the garden at the base of the hill, about twenty feet above the same level. The mean annual result of the quantities which fell in each of the situations, on an average of five years, was, for the hill gage, 41.49,—and, for the garden gage, 25.66, a difference which would lead to the conclusion, that the quantity of rain which falls on mountain ranges is nearly double that which waters the valleys. There can, at The original is from the drama of Artaxerxes. It is still more soft and tender, though expressed in fewer and simpler words : "L'onda del mar divisa Bagna le valle, e'l monte; Va passeggiera In flume, Va prigioniera In fonte, Mormora sempre, e geme Al mar, dov'ella nacque, Dove acquisto gli umori, Dove da' lunghi errori all events, be no doubt that the difference is great, arising chiefly from the well-known property of hills, by which they attract the clouds, and, extracting the electric fluid, dissolve them in showers. Supposing, therefore, what has been alleged, that the quantity of evaporation which takes place from the surface of the earth, is not greatly inferior in quantity to the rain that falls upon the low grounds, and that, therefore, there would not, from this source, after the necessary supply of vegetation, be much surplus to return to the sea, yet the additional falls of rain on the hills seem amply sufficient to account for the innumerable rills and streams which intersect the land in all directions. Mr Dalton has calculated, that the quantity of water annually discharged into the sea by all the rivers in England and Wales, does not amount to more than thirteen inches over the whole surface; and it is stated by M. Arago, that one-third only of the water which falls in rain, within the basin of the Seine, flows by that river into the sea. The remaining two-thirds either return into the atmosphere by evaporation, or go to the support of organized existences, or find their way into the sea by subterranean passages. I cannot better conclude this paper, than in the words of the eminent Professor whom I have partly followed in the facts on which its reasoning is founded ::-" In the whole machinery of springs and rivers, and in the apparatus that is kept in action for their duration, through the instrumentality of a system of curiously constructed hills and valleys, receiving their supply occasionally from the rains of heaven, and treasuring it up in their everlasting storehouses, to be dispersed perpetually, by thousands of never-failing fountains, we see a provision not less striking than it is important. So, also, in the adjustment of the relative quantities of sea and land, in such due proportions as to supply the earth by constant evaporation, without diminishing the waters of the ocean; and in the appointment of the atmosphere to be the vehicle of this wonderful and unceasing circulation; and thus separating these waters from their native salt (which, though of the highest utility to preserve the purity of the sea, renders them unfit for the support of terrestrial animals and vegetables), and transmitting them in genial showers to scatter fertility over the earth, and maintain the never-failing reservoirs of those springs and rivers by which they are again returned to mix with their parent ocean; in all these circumstances, we find such evidence of nicely balanced adaptation of means to ends, of wise foresight, and benevolent intention, and infinite power, that he must be blind indeed, who refuses to recognize in them proofs of the most exalted attributes of the Creator."* * Buckland's Inaugural Lecture, p. 13.-See also the same author's Bridgewater Treatise, chap. xxii. VOL. II. C 42 SECOND WEEK-SUNDAY. ADVANTAGES OF VICISSITUDE. WHEN the earliest snow-drop pierces the dark earth, like morning springing out of night, and gives promise of the coming genial season, the impatient spirit hails the tender harbinger, and already in anticipation revels in vernal delights. But many a pinching frost, and many a splashy thaw, and many a shower of sleet, must be endured before winter will “sound his trumpet in the blast, and call his storms away." And many a fair and promising bud must be checked in its efforts to struggle into life, beneath the incongruous alternations of cold and sunshine. Yet the sunbeam which bids the sap ascend, and summons the bud into existence, is not more salutary, or more necessary for the security of the future fruit, than is the storm which repels its too hasty growth, and seems to threaten its destruction. Variety seems the very essence of health and vigour in the natural world, as it is in the moral. Who could endure the tedious sameness of skies ever blue, a sun ever shining, earth ever green, and streams ever gliding in tranquil brightness? The very deliciousness of Nature's beauties would, after a time, render them nauseous. The weary eye would long for the interposing canopy of clouds, and the friendly return of evening. A patch of wilderness and moorland would be hailed with joy; and flood and rock enough to form a cataract, might serve to chase the tedium vitæ, which would otherwise steal upon us. The mind is not allowed to stagnate in one train of contemplations, by the uniformity of surrounding objects, any more than its dwelling-place the body, is allowed to become listless and enervated by the sameness of its sensations. We learn to appreciate our comforts by means of occasional privations, and find |