the ninth century,' and many succeeding Christians forced, as it were, their way to heaven. If even the heathen world attested God's glory, if all the earth still renders to him an involuntary homage, how much more loudly shall the songs of heaven be echoed by his saints, by the glorious company of the apostles, the goodly fellowship of the prophets, the noble army of martyrs, and the holy church throughout all the world! 1

1 Vide Rollin, Bossuet, &c. &c.

XVIII.-ON THINGS SEEN.

AMONG the various influences to which we are subjected, few are more powerful than those of which sight is the vehicle.

The human species displays in all parts of the earth, from France to New Holland, its great distinguishing characteristics, but it consists of many strongly marked varieties; and among their producing causes appears to be long existing differences of native region and country. The Aborigines of America, the natives of Africa, Asia, and Europe, severally bear the stamp of their locality. Among Europeans the strong shades of national distinction are apparent. The lively Frenchman, the phlegmatic German, and the hardy Swiss likewise testify the power of geographical situation over the physical constitution, animal spirits, and habits of man. Even in Britain every county seems to have its own little variety of mankind, in the production of which local circumstances have long been quietly at work. And they are busy still, and are doing more upon individuals than

some of us are willing to confess.

This appears

not only in persons for whom every sunbeam seems to light up a new prospect, but in those capable of none but common-place impressions. Whatever is customary is in some degree influential. Whatever is able to engage the affections is able also in some way or other to modify the character. Natural scenery, especially what is either new to us, or striking in itself, is observed and felt by us all; the manner and degree in which it affects particular persons is a good criterion of natural temperament and taste.

We may live many years in a country, and dwell a long while in a house without discovering the fact, that the country and the house, and the size of its apartments, and style of its furniture and appurtenances have become the standard of our opinion. When we change our quarters, the new scene is wild or cultivated, rich or poor, the new abode is large or small, well or ill-furnished, according to the comparison offered by our former locality. Hence arises one principal use of travelling, it helps us to reduce our arbitrary standard to the correction of judgment: it shows us sea and land, mountain and valley, city and hamlet, the various ways and works of men; and engraves their successive forms upon the unfolding imagination. If we could realize what we hear or read, we should be able to acquire much of the benefit usually derived from experience even by our fire

side. But we are commonly dull at taking impressions, and require ideas to enter our minds through more than one sense, and to be communicated by the things themselves, rather than by words the mere signs of things. Capable of being elevated and improved by the contemplation of the great and beautiful in nature and in art, and of being debased and injured by the contrary, it is our bounden duty to watch and guide aright the silent but certain operation of such influences.

Serenity and cheerfulness of spirit are much promoted by the pursuit of natural and physical science, when it does not too exclusively engross the attention, which it is very apt to do.

But while some are in danger of being monopolized by one or other of its fascinating branches, most persons, even in this highly civilized country, and this æra of information are utterly insensible to the charms of the tree of knowledge. They look down and around, and above, and see nothing worthy of attention, nothing that can excite interest. Surely this is but like a man blinded by cataract complaining of darkness, like idle children deploring want of amusement. From mere vacuity of thought, some persons fall into the morbid habit of watching their own sensations, a habit which will soon transform a philosopher into a hypochondriac.

Others make their petty personal or family concerns, and the concerns of their neighbours com

mon subjects of thought and of conversation, thus wasting the energies of their minds, and becoming moreover, pests of society as busy bodies and evil speakers. Some, in whose unfurnished upper stories a few facts and notions have resided a secluded fraternity for years, whose opinions right or wrong, time and ignorance have stiffened into prejudices, try their hearers patience with tedious traditional histories and oracular judgments, while exciting pity for the folly of which these things are outward demonstrations. Yet these people are all under the power of day and night, sunshine and cloud, town and country, hill and valley, and might, if roused to the observation of what they see, from thence derive pleasure, and benefit, and blessing.

Whatever our ordinary employment may be, we all feel the need of occasional change as recreation. Absolute rest is wearisome alike to a healthful body or mind. Something is required that shall either exercise different faculties to those which have already been in action, or merely excite and amuse the languid fancy. Before our eyes there is enough to rouse the dull from the drowsy monotony of routine, and to occupy the restless activity of talent; beneath a veil, which the hand of diligent observation can lift with ease, lie things more beautiful than dreams could picture, more strange than fancy, in her wildest mood, has ever cast.

The cultivation of a scientific taste may possibly