Sidebilder
PDF
ePub

FEBRUARY VI.

The Fog.

AMONGST the numerous phenomena which we see in winter, the fog, or mist, particularly merits our attention. It is formed of exhalations, which occupy the lower region of the atmosphere; they arise from the earth, and are condensed by the greater coldness of the surrounding air. During the continuance of a mist, a grey mantle is spread over the face of nature; every object is imperfectly seen, and enveloped in obscurity: the eye often in vain attempts to pierce the thick curtain; all is confused and indistinct; the rising sun slowly disperses these vapours, which at length are gradually dissipated; his power is confessed, obscurity vanishes before his rays, the surrounding objects are restored to our view, and the heavens resume their wonted light and beauty. The mist is, however, still seen on the earth, but it is close to the ground, or hangs on the roofs of houses; and the horizon, so long veiled from sight, now opens upon us. As the face of the earth, before the sun beams upon it, is overspread with fog, dew, and vapours, so once were the blessed regions of science and of knowledge enveloped in the thick mist of ignorance and of superstition; whole countries were obscured, kingdoms obumbrated, and darkness ruled with a leaden sceptre the groveling race that licked and grew fat beneath her chains; whilst error, prejudice, and sloth, so clouded their faculties and benumbed their feelings, that light was not sought for, nor wisdom esteemed; human reason was no more, and innocence had retired. At length the moment arrived when, the measure of their iniquity being filled, the triumph of darkness, of ignorance, and of superstition was to cease. The sun once more dawned, and flashed such a steady blaze of light from the horizon, that

the gloom, which for centuries had buried man in obscurity, and rendered torpid all his powers, at once fled, overpowered by the fervency of the beams which penetrated her secret recesses, and exposed to the face of day the horrors of her naked deformity. But, because in this day of light and of truth we are much superior to those dark ages in every thing that can dignify and bless human nature, let us not think our work completed, and that we have no more to do. Though emerging from Gothic gloom and Vandalic darkness, the light shines with greater brilliancy and power, we are still young in knowledge, and very ignorant of the true and pure tenets of religion, which still labours to throw off the shackles of ceremony and the yoke of superstition, with which the ignorance, the presumption, and the audacity of man have obscured her simplicity and sullied her purity. The blessed period is probably hastening, when an enlightened race of men shall look back upon our generation with as much compassion as we now feel for the victims of oppression and monkish superstition, in what we are pleased to call the dark ages.

FEBRUARY VII.

Of the Tides.

THE greatest part of the surface of the earth is covered with water, which is called sea, and is very distinct from lakes and rivers. These contain more or less water as the season is dry or humid, whilst the vast body of the ocean ever preserves its bulk unaffected by such contingencies. Twice in the day it ebbs and flows according to certain rules; when at its greatest height on any shore it begins to decrease, which lasts about six hours, and is called the ebb. At the end of six hours it begins again to flow, and continues

to increase six hours longer, when it gains its greatest elevation; it then again retires, and rises again in the same space of time; so that in twenty-four hours the sea has twice ebbed and twice flowed.

This regular and alternate motion of the sea is called its flux and reflux, or ebbing and flowing, and constitutes the tides. When it rises and flows towards the coast it is called flux, when it retires from the shore reflux. These tides are chiefly influenced by the moon, and in some degree by the sun, and are greatest during the new and the full moon, and least in the quarters. When both the luminaries are in the equator, and the moon at her least distance from the earth, the tides rise the highest. The greatest tides do not happen till after the autumnal equinox, and return a little before the vernal. Their motion is more remarkable in the ocean than in small seas, and would continue for a great length of time though the sun and the moon were to be annihilated. There is some little variation in the flux and reflux, which causes the tide of the succeeding day to be rather later than that of the preceding one; and they do not return at the same hour till the expiration of thirty days, the period of a lunation.

Thus we find the tides are affected by the changes of the moon, and influenced by its power of attraction; the sun also contributes to their production, and the combined action of these two luminaries furnish a complete solution of all the phenomena presented to us by the flux and reflux of the sea. The advantages arising from the tides are great; by their means, the streams of rivers being checked in their course to the sea, the bed of the river becomes deeper, and ships of the largest burthen are enabled to sail up their channel with safety; vessels approaching bays wait for this increase of water, and then enter in security; aided too by the tides, they sail up rivers against their natural course, and carry the means of plenty and abundance into the interior of countries. Another

great advantage in the tides is, that by their means the waters of the ocean continually roll to and fro, and are thus preserved fresh and free from putridity and stagnation; for though frequently agitated by the winds, and often perturbed by a storm, the waves would soon recover from such partial interruption, and regain a state of calm, were it not for the continued flux and reflux of the tides. From this ebbing and flowing of the sea, we may call to mind the fluctuation of life, which increases to a certain height and then declines. Every thing in this state of probation is fluctuating, and of uncertain tenure; no joy, no pleasure is permanent; the gayest moments of happiness, the hours of mirth and of festivity, suddenly depart; and man, in the despondency of his heart, feels the misery of his existence, and sighs for a state of purity and of happiness, where the troubles, the cares, and the sorrows, which here afflict and render comfortless his being, can never intrude to disturb his felicity, or molest his repose. Let us then, by the integrity of our conduct, the propriety of our actions, and the humanity of our hearts, merit the reward of a hope-inspiring certainty of obtaining such a happy abode, to cheer us on our way through this dreary pilgrimage; and when anxious and ready to faint, to gladden our souls with some bright gleams of the heavenly regions, where bliss, and ecstacy, and perfect felicity, for ever dwell.

FEBRUARY VIII.

The Sun is not always apparent.

THE heavens are not continually obscured by clouds of rain and snow. After showering down their con tents upon the earth, they sometimes separate, and serenity again diffuses her cheerful smiles throughout

the sky. The aspect of the sun, after an obscurity of many days, again animates life, and fills the creation with joy and youth; from his appearing so seldom in winter, and then for only a very short space, we better know how to appreciate his blessings. And, perhaps, this will hold good with regard to many other gifts of Providence: we are too apt to consider the choicest blessings of life with indifference, if constantly in our possession. Health, repose, friendship, and affluence, with many other benefits which we daily enjoy, seldom appear to men as valuable as they really are; and their true worth is often never felt till they are irrevocably lost. Rightly to know and sufficiently to feel the happiness of a bosom friend, perfect health, and an independent income, we should first have been stretched on the bed of sickness, deserted by our dearest friends, and reduced to the miseries of hopeless poverty.

How uncertain and inconstant is the serenity of the sky in the winter season! How little are we able to rely with certainty upon the possession of the beneficent rays of the sun! At present he shines with unclouded majesty; but soon the clouds will thicken, and, before noon, the splendour and the beauty, which in the morning shone upon the earth, will be eclipsed. Such is, likewise, the instability of all human transactions; we can never promise to ourselves durable pleasures, nor uninterrupted felicity. This consideration should render us careful and circumspect in the hour of prosperity, and moderate our desire for earthly joys, since every thing is subject to change and inconstancy. Virtue alone is immutable; virtue alone makes us support, with unbending firmness, the vicissitudes and the contingencies of life, unmoved by the frowns or the smiles of fortune; and enables us to sustain the mocks and the scorn of the world, whilst we pity and compassionate the weak children of delusion, who show their gilded wings in

« ForrigeFortsett »