whole animated creation which it contains, lay naked and open before us, how ignorant, even then, would we be! Worlds on worlds, and systems on systems, would still be entirely unknown to us.

But how little do we know even of the earth which we inhabit! We are confined to a little spot of this little world! How small are the British islands compared to the broad expanse of sea and land! And yet, of this diminutive region, how insignificant is the space with which we are acquainted! And even of the objects within our view, how ignorant are we! Nay, of the things with which we are most familiar, what do we know! We observe their outward appearance,we can tell what they are to the eye, to the ear, and to the touch; but what they are in their own nature, the greatest philosopher cannot so much as conjecture. Indeed, the very production of organized existences, is an impenetrable mystery. Who can define the secret power by which a single blossom of the spring germinates and grows, opening its beauties to the sun, and embalming the air with its perfume?

Compared with this stinted portion of knowledge, how amazing is the knowledge of God! As He made all things, He must be intimately acquainted, not only with their properties, but with their very essence. His eye, at the same instant, surveys all the works of His immeasurable creation ;— He observes, not only the complicated system of the universe, but the slightest motion of the most minute microscopic insect ;-not only the sublimest conceptions of angels, but the meanest propensity of the most worthless of His creatures. At this moment, He is listening to the praises breathed by grateful hearts in distant worlds, and reading every grovelling thought which passes through the polluted minds of the fallen race of Adam.

Another difference between Divine and human knowledge, arises from the limited term of man's existence, and the limited extent of his memory. Threescore and ten years sum up the days of his earthly career. In that short period, how little can he learn! How much of that little does he lose by

inattention, or by defect of memory and judgment! From books, indeed, he may acquire some knowledge of the past; and from Revelation, still more, not only of the past, but of the present and future. But of what we learn from the works of fallible men, if we were to deduct all that is false or doubtful, how little would remain! And even of the unerring oracles of God, how much is there that we cannot fully comprehend!

To this, also, what a contrast do we find in the knowledge of God! At one view, He surveys the past, the present, and the future. No inattention prevents Him from observing; no defect of memory or of judgment obscures His comprehension. In His remembrance, are stored not only the transactions of this world, but of all the worlds in the universe ;— not only the events of the six thousand years which have passed since the earth was created, but of a duration without beginning. Nay, things to come, extending to a duration without end, are also before Him. An eternity past, and an eternity to come, are, at the same moment, in His eye; and with that eternal eye He surveys infinity. How amazing! How inconceivable!

But while we thus do homage to the perfections of the Eternal, let us not undervalue the studies by which these perfections are elucidated. Though, when compared with the Divine mind, the mind even of a Newton must sink into utter insignificance; yet, to feeble man, it is great,-it is admirable, to have removed the veil which lay on the face of nature, to have pierced, with keen glance, to the suns of other systems, and to have discovered the law, so simple and so sublime, by which the beauty, order, and harmony of the universe, are sustained. By enlarging our views of nature, the philosopher enlarges our conceptions of Nature's God. He throws new light on the power, the wisdom, and the infinity of the Creator;-and this is well, but it is not enough. Without a higher principle, his knowledge is ignorance; his wisdom is folly; his light is darkness. Every discovery which extends our conceptions of the Divine power, while it

hides from our view the beauty and grace of his paternal character, only places man at a more awful distance from his Maker, and surrounds the throne of the Eternal with new terrors, till, in the full blaze of the Godhead, the corrupted child of earth shrinks, is consumed,-is annihilated!

O! how unspeakably more cheering and glorious,-how infinitely better adapted to our condition and our wants, would be a simple message from the unseen world, intimating favour to the sinful and perishing race of Adam! And that message has been sent. The Almighty has broken the silence of nature, and sent that message by his own Son.

FIFTH WEEK-MONDAY.

VH. THE STARRY HEAVENS.-THE SATELLITES.

WE have considered the arrangements of the planetary system, in reference to its stability, and to the diffusion of light and heat; but there is a contrivance of a different kind, which seems to require a slight notice. The existence of satellites, or secondary planets, as they are called, is a striking concomitant of the system. These smaller bodies at tend the primary planets in their course round the sun, partaking of their motion, and at the same time wheeling round them, in an orbit of their own, at greater or less distances. Now, it has been remarked that, speaking generally, these moons are bestowed as attendants on the planets, in some relation to their distance from the sun, increasing in number in proportion as we recede from that luminary. The inferior planets, that is, those that are nearer the sun than our earth, have none. The Earth has one; Jupiter, which is five times more distant from the sun than our planet, has four; Saturn, which nearly doubles the distance of Jupiter, has seven, besides the curious anomaly of a ring; Uranus is known to have five, and may, in all probability, have many more, which the extreme remoteness of his situation, at the distance of one

billion eighteen hundred and thirteen millions of miles, may well render invisible, even with the use of our best instruments. Supposing, however, that this is the case, there are still exceptions to the rule of increase. Mars, and the four other planetary bodies which are stationed between the Earth and Jupiter, have no attendants. As to the ultra-zodiacal planets, the peculiarity of their condition might lead us to expect this deviation; and though it may be more difficult to account for the want of an attendant in the case of Mars, there are few who, on this account, will withhold their assent to the truth of the general observation.

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What purpose, then, do these secondary planets serve? This question has been well answered by Mr. Whewell, in reference to our own moon, and in refutation of the sceptical doubts of Laplace. A person of ordinary feelings,' observes this sound philosopher, who, on a fine moonlight night, sees our satellite pouring her mild radiance on field and town, path and moor, will probably not only be disposed to bless the useful light," but also to believe that it was ordained for that purpose; that the lesser light was made to rule the night, as certainly as the greater light was made to rule the day.

'Laplace, however, does not assent to this belief. He observes, that " some partisans of final causes have imagined that the moon was given to the earth to afford light during the night;" but he remarks that this cannot be so, for that we are often deprived at the same time of the light of the sun and of the moon; and he points out how the moon might have been placed so as to be always "full."

'That the light of the moon affords, to a certain extent, a supplement to the light of the sun, will hardly be denied. If we take man in a condition in which he uses artificial light scantily only, or not at all, there can be no doubt that the moonlight nights are for him a very important addition to the time of daylight. And, as a small proportion only of the whole number of nights are without some portion of moonlight, the fact that sometimes both luminaries are invis

Why should not

ible, very little diminishes the value of this advantage. Why we have not more moonlight, either in duration or in quantity, is an inquiry which a philosopher could hardly be tempted to enter upon, by any success which has attended previous speculations of a similar nature. Why should not the moon be ten times as large as she is? the pupil of a man's eye be ten times as large as it is, so as to receive more of the light which does arrive? We do not conceive that our inability to answer the latter question, prevents our knowing that the eye was made for seeing; nor does our inability to answer the former, disturb our persuasion that the moon was made to give light upon the earth.'*

To show that the light derived from the moon exhibits no proof of an Intelligent Cause, Laplace undertakes to suggest a better arrangement himself, and points out a position of that luminary, which would always cause her to appear full to the inhabitants of the earth. Mr. Whewell answers this suggestion by proving, that such a position could only be found by placing the moon four times farther from us than she is at present, which would diminish her apparent size no less than sixteen times, and, of course, proportionally diminish her light. Whether or not this arrangement would be preferable to the present, may well be doubted; but even if its superiority could be demonstrated, it seems doubtful if the influence of the disturbing forces, which, on such a supposition, would certainly act more powerfully, would suffer the arrangement to be stable.

But even allowing the full force to Laplace's objection, which the validity of his suggestion could with any show of reason afford, it amounts, after all, just to this, that the provision thus made for the comfort and happiness of living creatures, and especially of man, is mingled with imperfection and privation. Is not this, however, the precise charac ter which is inscribed on all sublunary things? and does not the analogy which we here discover, serve to confirm the very view of the Divine perfections, as exhibited in his works, *Whewell's Bridgewater Treatise, p. 174.