Perhaps the atmospheres of the smaller, and of the secondary planets may be more rare, and therefore less discoverable, at such immense distances as the planets are from each other, than the dense atmospheres of the large primary planets; but, dense, or rare, their existence seems no longer to be disputed.

The atmosphere of a planet is a permanent elastic fluid, consisting of gases, mixed rather than chemically united, of water in a state of vapour, more or less rare, of exhalations from bodies upon the planet's surface, and of that important substance, light-caloric, latent, but ready for instant action on the call of every appropriate agent, from within or from without. This compound is called atmospheric air.

Compared with the ether which surrounds them, the atmospheres of the planets have great specific gravity; and this gravity causes them to tend towards, and rest permanently upon, the surfaces of the respective orbs to which they are attached. This specific gravity is greater or less, in larger or smaller orbs, according to the density of the atmosphere formed, but in every case it is quite sufficient to attach it permanently to the sphere for which it was formed.

The atmosphere attached to the earth is formed of a variety of substances, which are always fluid while there, although many of these become solid under other associations. Oxygen and nitrogen abound in the lower region of the earth's atmosphere as well as caloric, with a small proportion of carbon, and a larger proportion of aqueous vapour, as well as mingled gases, and other exhalations from substances upon, and also from the earth's surface, and this is called atmospheric air; while the higher regions contain hydrogen, the lightest of all ponderable matter, and some of the other fluids, in a state less dense than those near the surface of this globe. The weight of the earth's atmosphere is equal to about fourteen pounds upon every square inch of the surface of our sphere. The pressure of this and every other atmosphere is circumambient, to any given point within the same. If a vacuum is produced in a vessel, and an aperture is made through the substance of this vessel, in order to communicate with this vacuum, it is of no consequence whether the aperture is through the bottom, the sides, or the top of this vessel, for the pressure is in every direction the same.

Atmospheres, as well as oceans, have tides, each arising out of the same cause. These tides are not always perceptible to us,

but in many instances they are quite obvious, and materially affect the weather, especially near the surface of a sphere.

On this second day, when Elohim pronounced, "Amidst the terraqueous fluids, let there be an expansion or firmament, and let it divide fluids from fluids," Elohim formed these atmospheres, which are genial to vegetation, to combustion, and to animal life, none of which could subsist without them. A medium between the extreme rarity of ether, and the extreme density of solid matter, they form an interesting feature in the face of heaven, adorning the spheres, and proclaiming the wisdom and the power of God.

An atmosphere is more dense upon the surface of a sphere than upon its highest mountains, and there it is more dense than in regions yet more remote from the sphere; and this rareness, in progression, insensibly loses itself in ether so rare and subtile, that the planets with their atmospheres revolve therein without obstruction. What the ether is, which fills up all the spaces between the atmospheres of the planets, we are not informed. If attraction and gravitation be an adjunct or adjuncts of light, this may be an adjunct also, and one of as great importance to the well-being of the universe as either of the former. The immediate agents of the Great Creator are all invisible to us.

They serve as means of contact and operation between spirit and matter, and their subtile approach to spirit eludes the penetration of the material organs of man: he sees them not, nor can he feel their substance, while their Great Head, the Infinite Spirit, uses them with freedom, and clothes them with power to fulfil his will.

The fluid state of the created matter, when formed into spheres, and put into motion, admirably adapted it to take the form in which we now behold them. The several orbs are oblate spheroidsspheres flattened at the poles, and extended at the equator; the very form a mass of fluid matter would take, on being whirled round upon its axis. The atmospheres, which are yet fluid, are precisely in the same shape as the spheres themselves. The spheres being formed in a fluid state, were not rendered solid by the operations of the Great Creator until the third day of creation; and the atmospheres were suffered to remain fluid. Then oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, &c. became solid amidst solid masses, and continued fluid in fluid atmospheres.

We perceive the propriety of all these operations being performed by the Great

Creator, while the created atoms of the universe were yet individual, and of course in a state of fluidity. With what ease are they brooded over, agitated and perfected; what facilities of assortment, mixture, and division, into distinct orbs and atmospheres, does this circumstance present: how does it facilitate the formation of spheres, and dispose these spheres to take the form best adapted to their future motions; and with what ease is the stupendous fabric of the universe erected, compared with the labour which must have ensued, had the created matter become previously solid. Surely, He who created the matter of the universe could preserve that matter with as much ease in separate atoms as in solid masses, until the appointed moment when He applied these atoms to their several uses, and could then appoint to whatever portion thereof He pleased, the solid or the fluid forin; and I conceive the economy visible throughout every stage of creation to be a lesson, which should teach us, on all occasions, to employ our wisdom in the direction of our strength, and to economize our time as well as our labour.

The prophet Isaiah sublimely takes up the theme of creation, and alludes to this day's work, in announcing the Redeemer to His people, "Him, by whom all things were made; for without Him was not any thing made that was made," exclaiming "Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with the span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance." And Job is thus addressed by this Divine Person, in order to humble him in the presence of his God: "Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding. Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner-stone thereof, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?" The psalmist exclaims, "O Lord God of hosts, who is a strong Lord like unto thee? The heavens are thine, the earth also is thine: as for the world, and the fulness thereof, Thou hast founded them." Isaiah further exclaims, "Him that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers; that stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in." Jeremiah also says, "He hath made the earth by His power, He hath established the world by His

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wisdom, and hath stretched out the heaven by His understanding. And St. Paul crowns the whole, saying, "Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the Word of God; so that things which are seen, were not made of things which do appear.

One whole day was devoted to this immense erection, by the Great Creator: who then appointed, and called into exercise, those powerful agents, or second causes, by which He now rules the universe, and directs every orb therein. By weight and measure, it appears, He adjusted all things; balancing the orbs in their orbits, in infinite wisdom; leaving no weak, no imperfect part, but erecting the whole universe in such perfect equilibrium, that the utmost serenity attends its action, and perfect security every sphere, throughout the whole. Small, feeble, and isolated, as the planets Ceres, Pallas, Juno, and Vesta, are, and distant from the sun and the larger planets, they faint not in their course, but pursue it as on this their primal day; and unwieldy as Jupiter and Saturn are, and charged with huge eccentric trains, equal stability and serenity await these orbs, with all their attendants; while the Georgium Sidus, upon the very verge of the universe, pursues his orbit, attended by his satellites, with the same freedom as Mercury, the nearest planet to the sun, rolls unencumbered round his orbit from year to year.

The immense distances of the planets, each from each, and from the central sun, is the best security to the freedom of their motions: and there is an evident display of wisdom in the adjustment of these distances, which are by no means the same in all cases. Mars, the Earth, Venus, and Mercury, which are all small planets, move in orbits, comparatively near to each other; while the Georgium Sidus, Saturn, and Jupiter, being immense orbs, are placed at great distances, each from each, and thus enjoy that freedom of action which their unweildy bulks require.

There is a peculiar something diffused through the atmosphere, and even deep amidst the mines of the earth, which attracts iron and some other metals; causing rods of these metals, in whatever direction they may have been previously placed, to turn one of their ends towards the north, and the other end towards the south pole of the earth. These rods have, also, when impregnated with this something, the power of attracting other metallic rods, without coming into previous contact therewith; thus evidently acting under the influence of

an invisible power, which is intermediate between the attracting and the attracted rods. This influence we call magnetic, and the science magnetism. Heated bodies, or bodies exposed to the action of the solar rays, appear to possess this singular faculty of attraction, in a manner different to cold bodies. Perhaps the medium, or fluid, which is intermediate between the several bodies and the two poles of this sphere, may also be an adjunct of light, for it seems to be connected with electricity. Like the tides of the oceans, and the tides of the atmospheres, this invisible agent has its influx and reflux, denominated by us the variations of the needle, which carry the attracting point or centre to a certain distance eastward, and back again to a certain distance westward of the poles, and vice versa, in a determined portion of time. Is the vortex, created at the poles by the swift motion or working of the earth round its own axis, one of the causes why the tendency in the magnetic needle is to move in the direction of the poles, in preference to any other direction upon the surface of the sphere? Are the changes in the inclination of the poles, during the annual revolutions of the earth round its central sun, and its oppositions to, and conjunctions with, its fellow planets, in the system of which the earth forms a part, connected with the tides of this invisible fluid? There is no voicenone to answer; we are once more in the presence of an invisible agent, brought on this second day into existence by Elohim; which, in the hands of the invisible God, works wonderfully; manifesting wisdom infinite; before which wisdom it becomes us to bow, with humble reverence and godly fear.

"The evening was, and the morning was, the second day." What we said on the first day, we may repeat on this: Elohim, acting upon the light which He had created, became the light of the second day; also to the system which He now erected-darkness did no longer reign; light was, and it was in use, and we have the note of this use, in the declaration quoted above; for day could not have been, had not the light, in action, distinguished it from darkness, or night, when light is latent.

There are evidences, conclusive or collateral, that day and night alternate in every sphere throughout this system. Every orb therein appears to be rotary; and, moving round its own axis, it must present different sides, at different times, to the action of the solar rays. The side presented to the sun

will produce day to that portion of the sphere, and the side hidden from the sun will induce night thereto. Yet, notwithstanding day and night are appendages of every sphere, the lengths of these periods are as various as the orbs themselves. Twenty-four hours include the periods of day and night, upon the surface of the earth's equator; but, upon the surface of the moon's equator, the nearest orb to us, more than twenty-seven days and a half, of our time, elapses during the progression of one day and night; and so on of the other spheres.

Incessant changes throughout the universe prevent stagnations in its parts, present perpetual varieties to its inmates, mete out periods to all its generations, deal notes of active existence in its principal, the great Creator, and all His agents, anew to every age; induce, by action and reaction, vigour throughout the system, and health and stability to all its parts; and conduce, in general, to the diffusion of liveliness and joy throughout the animated portion of all its spheres. "O, give thanks unto the Lord; for He is good: for His mercy endureth for ever."

WM. COLDWell.

King Square, June 16, 1831.

THOUGHTS ON FRIENDSHIP.

THAT a strict regard to the cultivation of the reciprocal duties of life, diffuses comfort, and perpetuates happiness, in every community where they are the most scrupulously guarded and conscientiously cherished, a superficial acquaintance, a mere cursory glance at the actual state of human society, is sufficient to demonstrate, and also to corroborate its benignant tendency, and confirm its salutary effects.

It has been affirmed by unbelievers, in the fierceness of their sceptical hardihood, as a defect in the morality of the gospel, that friendship and patriotism are not expressly urged, or, at least, that they are not stated in the most luminous acceptation of the terms, and prescribed in the most forcible manner.

That social and public duties are repeatedly inculcated, and very solemnly enforced, in the sacred writings, is evident to every one, who peruses its pages, and studies its contents, untinged with the acrimony of party, and unbiassed by the arts of sophistical reasoning. For there the grand principles in which they are incorporated, and the virtues out of which they naturally grow, are strongly and accurately defined, and, from these radical premises,

their authors rigidly and earnestly recommend and enjoin their due and consistent performance.

That friendship, founded on virtuous principles, is conducive to practical happiness, no one will seriously attempt to deny, as its utility is fairly ascertained, and its merit fully appreciated. In the varied emergencies of life, he who can have recourse to the assistance of a sympathizing friend, will find it an invaluable acquisition, in meliorating the trials, disentangling the difficulties, and smoothing the asperities of his earthly tribulations. The recollection that our conduct is submitted to the inspection of a friend who is solicitous for our welfare, will prove influential in restraining from any aberrations to vicious practices, and in stimulating an ardent desire in our breasts, for the accomplishment of virtuous deeds. What may appear insuperable, and environed with a formidable array of difficulties at first view, to our bewildered judgment and perplexed understanding, will assume quite a contrary aspect, and a milder appearance, to him who comes to the decision of a question with a mind cool and collected, neither distorted by passion, nor harassed with fatigue. He who is conscious of having gained the esteem and affection of a person distinguished for virtue, and eminent for piety, the very idea of the bare possibility of forfeiting his favour, and being deprived of his counsel and advice, will be a powerful aid, and a strong encouragement, to continue diligently in the path of integrity, to listen at all times to the call of duty, and obey the suggestions of unsophisticated

reason.

There are but few, in the pilgrimage of life, and those are practical misanthropists, who do not contract friendship with one or more of their species. Some, however, may be found who are not imbued with the requisite dispositions for the proper discharge of its duties. Some minds are naturally so morose and selfish, that it is almost impossible to share the kindly dispositions of the heart along with them; they distrust all the approaches of open and disinterested natures, and repel all communication of sentiment and interchange of thought. They carry about with them none of the genial elements of forbearance, kindness, and sympathy with the infirmities incident to human nature, which are essentially necessary to be cultivated and inspired, in order to constitute solid and lasting friendship.

There are others who immediately cohere, and become familiar, without the formality

of long preparation, or the ceremony of tedious introduction. A peculiar combination of circumstances, over which we have very slight control, often co-operates in the formation of our most endeared connexions, and which afterwards imperceptibly ripens into esteem, and, at length, secures the cordial acquiescence of the affections. Many who have had such intercourse with the world, will be able to recollect instances of fondness or aversion, that insensibly gained the ascendancy over them, without the intervention of their judgment exerting its just prerogative, to ratify and confirm the propriety of their predilection. They could not, if required, describe what superlative qualities, or transcendent abilities, above the level of ordinary minds, the individual possessed, that attracted their attention, and conciliated their regard; or satisfactorily define the causes which conspired to decide their motive for preference. Such is the social tendency of our nature, that it is absolutely necessary to cultivate the sentiments of specific endearment, with one in whom we can confide our most secret thoughts, and disburden our most complex difficulties; in order thus to exercise the various emotions of which our minds are susceptible, to lessen our griefs by participation, and to increase our joys by the gratulations of an ardent and sincere friend.

The essential qualities of true friendship are constancy and fidelity, through all the changes of fortune, and vicissitudes of life. Without these indispensable ingredients, it is totally worthless and valueless; a mere attenuated thread, which accidental causes may sever, and unpremeditated neglect may make nugatory. An inconstant man may, perhaps, occasionally feel the glow of affection relaxing the finer fibres of his heart, either excited by the amiable virtues of another, or by one to whom he has been indebted for previous assistance. But after these temporary feelings have subsided, either selfish interest alienates, or objects more novel attract him. Inviolable fidelity is equally as necessary in all social compacts, as allegiance is in political, to secure confidence and trust, to bind promises, and render engagements sacred, and to divulge nothing which will injure our friend's honour, or invalidate his credit. Hence, it has been long remarked, that friendship must be confined to one object; or, to use the words of the axiom, "He that hath friends, has no friend." As the objects become multiplied, the ardour of kindness will be dissipated; that implicit confidence, and unsuspecting security, which friendship