lightning rod to a house, such precautions would be wholly

unnecessary.

Still, it must be confessed, that no place is wholly secure. The lightning sometimes winds about, and goes in a zigzag direction; and occasionally it seems to set all rules and laws at defiance. Its tremendous force, as it descends, may be one reason of the last mentioned phenomena. As a general rule, we may secure ourselves as effectually against it as we can against a storm of rain, hail, or snow, or a gust of wind. The better way is to take all reasonable known precautions, and then leave the event to Divine Providence. For that event-whatever it may be we are bound, at all times, as reasonable beings, to stand prepared.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF DEW.

FROM the manner in which we commonly hear the deposition of Dew spoken of, we are led to think that the ideas of many people are vague and incorrect. Dew is spoken of as falling, as though it were formed in the clouds, or somewhere in the region above us, and showered down from thence, like the rain, which so abundantly waters and purifies the earth. But this is evidently incorrect; for if dew were formed in the clouds, or showered down from the atmosphere, it is manifest that we should find it equally deposited on all substances; we should find it upon sand and slate roofs, and upon our side walks and pavements it would lie plentifully. This hypothesis will then be abandoned. To those to whom the subject of the formation and deposition of dew may seem obscure, we would beg leave to suggest the following ideas:

It is well known that the atmosphere, when apparently in a state of dryness, holds in solution, by virtue of the caloric it contains, a greater or less quantity of water. When the weather is warmest and driest, the quantity of water then held in solution is greatest. It need not be said, that this moisture is the result of evaporation carried on rapidly through the day. When the temperature of the air is low, and the moisture thus evaporated, is in a state of imperfect solution, we feel sensibly the dampness

of the weather; as in winter, this moisture, not dissolved by the heat of the atmosphere, is frozen, and appears in the form of hoar frost.

In the evening, when the heat of the sun declines, the earth radiates rapidly the heat it has acquired during the day; while the atmosphere, which is not a good radiator, brings its caloric in contact with every plant and blade of grass, colder than itself, to which its caloric is imparted, and the atmosphere deprived of it. The air having its solvent power thus reduced, becomes unable to retain in solution so much moisture, and consequently deposits or distils it upon those bodies which are colder than itself. It will be observed, then, that but little dew is deposited during cloudy evenings; as clouds not only prevent the rapid radiation of the earth, which takes place at other times, but they do themselves impart their caloric to the earth. It is on fine clear nights that the dew is most perfect and unobstructed. We may observe, too, that the deposition of dew is most abundant towards morning, when the atmosphere has been almost deprived of its solvent power, or caloric.

It will be observed too, that dew is only deposited on those bodies which freely radiate caloric; since it is the radiation of heat which most readily reduces the earth to a temperature below that of the atmosphere. For this reason we find little or no dew upon sand or pavements, but a beautiful distribution of it upon those plants and vegetables which so greatly need it.

THE ADVANTAGES OF A TASTE FOR THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE.

THAT perception of, and sensibility to beauty, which, when cultivated and improved, we term taste, is most general and uniform, with respect to those objects which are not liable to variation from accident, caprice, or fashion. The verdant lawn, the shady grove, the variegated landscape, the boundless ocean, and the starry firmament, are contemplated with pleasure by every beholder.

But the emotions of different spectators, though similar in kind, differ widely in degree; for, to relish with full

delight the enchanting scenes of nature, the mind must be incorupted by avarice, sensuality, or ambition; quick in her sensibilities, elevated in her sentiments, and devout in her affections.

If this enthusiasm were cherished by every individual, in that degree which is consistent with the indispensable duties of his station, the felicity of human life would be considerably augmented. From this source the refined and vivid pleasures of the imagination are almost entirely derived. The elegant arts owe their choicest beauties to a taste for the contemplation of nature.

Painting and sculpture are express imitations of visible objects; and where would be the charms of poetry, if divested of the imagery and embellishments which she borrows from rural scenes? Painters, statuaries, and poets, therefore, are always ambitious to acknowledge themselves the pupils of nature; and, as their skill increases, they grow more and more delighted with every view of the animal and vegetable world.

The scenes of nature contribute powerfully to inspire that serenity which heightens their beauties, and is necessary to our full enjoyment of them. By a secret sympathy the soul catches the harmony which she contemplates; and the frame within assimilates itself to that without. In this state of sweet composure, we become susceptible of virtuous impressions from almost every surrounding object. The patient ox is viewed with generous complacency; the guileless sheep with pity; and the playful lamb with emotions of tenderness and love.

We rejoice with the horse in his liberty and exemption from toil, while he ranges at large through enamelled pastures. We are charmed with the songs of birds, soothed with the buzz of insects, and pleased with the sportive emotions of fishes, because these are expressions of enjoyment; and, having felt a common interest in the gratifications of inferior beings, we shall be no longer indifferent to their sufferings, or become wantonly instrumental in producing them.

But the taste for natural beauty is subservient to higher purposes than those which have been enumerated. The cultivation of it not only refines and humanizes, but dignifies and exalts the affections. It elevates them to the admiration and love of that Being, who is the author of

all that is fair, sublime and good, in the creation. Skepticism and irreligion are scarcely compatible with the sensibility of heart which arises from a just and lively relish of the wisdom, harmony, and order existing in the world around us.

Emotions of piety must spring up spontaneously in the bosom that is in union with all animated nature. Actuated by this beneficial and divine inspiration, man finds a fane in every grove; and glowing with devout fervor, he joins his song to the universal chorus, or muses the praises of the Almighty in more expressive silence.

ADVANTAGES OF HISTORY.

THE advantages found in history seem to be of three kinds; as it amuses the fancy, as it improves the understanding, and as it strengthens virtue.

In reality, what more agreeable entertainment to the mind, than to be transported into the remotest ages of the world, and to observe human society, in its infancy, making the first faint essays towards the arts and sciences? To see the policy of government and the civility of conversation refining by degrees, and every thing that is ornamental to human life advancing towards its perfection? To mark the rise, progress, declension, and final extinction of the most flourishing empires; the virtues which contributed to their greatness, and the vices which drew on their ruin? In short, to see all the human race, from the beginning of time, pass as it were in review before us, appearing in their true colors, without any of those disguises, which during their life time, so much perplexed the judgment of the beholders? What spectacle can be imagined so magnificent, so various, so interesting? What amusement, either of the senses or imagination, can be compared with it? Shall our trifling pastimes, which engross so much of our time, be preferred, as more satisfactory, and more fit to engage our attention? How perverse must that taste be, which is capable of so wrong a choice of pleasure?

But history is a most improving part of knowledge, as well as an agreeable amusement; and, indeed, a great part

of what we commonly call erudition, and value so highly, is nothing but an acquaintance with historical facts. An extensive knowledge of this kind belongs to men of letters; but I must think it an unpardonable ignorance in persons, of whatever sex or condition, not to be acquainted with the histories of their own country, along with the histories of ancient Greece and Rome.

I must add, that history is not only a valuable part of knowledge, but opens the door to many other parts of knowledge, and affords materials to most of the sciences. And, indeed, if we consider the shortness of human life, and our limited knowledge, even of what passes in our own time, we must be sensible that we should be forever children in understanding, were it not for this invention, which extends our experience to all past ages, and to most distant nations, making them contribute as much to our improvement in wisdom, as if they had actually lain under our observation. A man acquainted with history may, in some respect, be said to have lived from the beginning of the world, and to have been making continual additions to his stock of knowledge, in every century.

There is also an advantage in that knowledge which is acquired by history, above what is learned by the practice of the world, that it brings us acquainted with human affairs, without diminishing in the least from the most delicate sentiments of virtue. And, to tell the truth, I scarce know any study or occupation so unexceptionable as history, in this particular. Poets can paint virtue in the most charming colors; but, as they address themselves entirely to the passions, they often become advocates to vice. Even philosophers are apt to bewilder themselves in the subtilty of their speculations; and we have seen some go so far as to deny the reality of all moral distinctions. But I think it a remark worthy the attention of the speculative reader, that the historians have been almost without exception, the true friends of virtue, and have always represented it in its proper colors, however they may have erred in their judgments of particular persons. Nor is this combination of historians, in favor of virtue, at all difficult to be accounted for. When a man of business enters into life and action, he is more apt to consider the characters of men as they have relation to his interest, than as they stand in themselves, and has his judgment