Astronomers have occasionally extended their speculations beyond the immediate and rigorous limits of observation, and had endeavored by analogy to afford us some idea of the actual condition of lunar surface. I annex here a drawing of a lunar crater, from the design of a French observer.

Although in its general form and character the path of the moon round the earth is, like that of the orbits of the planets and satellites in general, circular, yet, when it is submitted, to accurate observation we find that it is strictly an ellipse or oval, the centre of the earth occupying one of its foci. This fact can be ascertained by immediate observation upon the apparent magnitude of the moon. It will be easily comprehended that any change which the apparent magnitude of the moon as seen from the earth undergoes, must arise from corresponding changes in the moon's distance from us. Thus, if at one time the disk of the moon appears larger than at another time, as it cannot be supposed that the actual size of the moon itself could be changed, we can only ascribe the increase of the apparent magnitude to the diminished distance VOL. IV.-15

SELECTED SPEECHES,

WITH MARKS FOR EMPHASIS, TONE, INFLECTION AND GESTURE,

HUMAN

REFERRING TO THE CHARTS.

No. 16.-Onward for Temperance.

UMANITY calls loudly for all good men to come to the rescue. It bids us meet the foe face to face, and with hand uplifted to heaven, announce his doom. It prohibits negotiation with the enemy, 89 an act which compromises away the lives of our fellow-men. It allows of no truce, for that gives respite to the destroyer. The enemy has turned his hand against every man; therefore, in self defense, every man's hand should be turned against him. Philanthropy denies any act of amnesty for past offenses, or indulgences for the future. It requires that every freeman should gird on his armor, and not be ashamed to do battle in a righteous and benevolent cause. [-] Shall the shrieks of the inebriate maniacs, and the sighs and supplications of their distressed families" ascend up forever, and freemen stand by unmoved, and refuse or neglect to cast their votes in a way that will afford speedy and complete relief? Are bodily distress and mental wretchedness never to meet with that response from the hearts of freemen, which they are able to give, and which is adequate to the immediate arrest of the sufferings of their fellow-beings? Are we, indeed, too wise to do right?'--or too enlightened to act consistently?'-or too refined to be moved by the cry of distress ?'-or too pious to do by others as we would have them do by us?' – —or too conscientious to do our whole duty to our neighbor or the public?'-or too politically scrupulous to regard the sanctity of an election ?—or too patriotic to cast our votes for the best good of our country?'-or too temperate to sustain the cause of temperance by our acts as well as words?' Shall the Upas of intemperance, nourished by the blood of its victims, still grow and flourish among us, when our votes at the elections might effect its extirpation? Shall posterity look back on our time with astonishment and contempt for our political morals?' Nay! rather let every freeman rend his garment, abase himself in the dust, and swear before highR Heaven and the sufferers from intemperance, that such shall never be. Let freemen but say by their votes-'let there be light,' and there will be light. Darkness will retire from the moral and political hemisphere, and a day of rejoicing3 dawn, when hearts shall be made glad, and the fountains of tears be dried up, because the destroyer shall cease to have an existence among us.

No. 17.-The Mariner's Dream.

[-] On the midnight ocean sleeping the youthful sailor lies,
While scenes of happy childhood in his dreaming soul arise;
Still chiming seems the Sabbath bell, as sweetly as of yore,
And once again he roams the fields, and sees the cottage door.

In her arms his mother folds him, with affection's fond caress,
His gentle bright-eyed sisters, too, in rapture round him press;
His aged father meets him, and his young companions come

To welcome1o him once more to share the dear delights of home

[~~] Hark what wild shriek dispels his dream whence sound those cries of wo!
With the storm loud thunders1 mingle-o'er the ship1 the billows flow;
[--~~~~] From his hammock starts the sleeper! he rushes to the deck!
The vessel's sails with lightning blaze ! [-] she sinks a burning wreck!
To a mast the winds have riven the sailor madly clings;

[..] His fearful parting knell of death the tempest loudly rings;
All is dark and drear around-not a star beams o'er the wave,
As ocean spirits3 bear him to the sailor's shroudless grave!
[-Pl.] Oh! never at the cottage hearth shall he again be seen,
Nor meet his playmates merrily to sport upon the green:
In vain for him the birds shall sing—the hawthorn deck the tree
For slumb'ring on the sand he lies beneath the swelling sea.
Where now are happy childhood's scenes? oh, where the chiming bell!
The fields1 o'er which he used to stray, the cot he loved so well?
For ever lost! yet still he finds a home1s of peace and joy,
Where neither stormy wind nor wave can wreck the sailor boy.

No. 18.-The Toper's Lament over the "Maine Law."-P. H. Bowne.
[To be Spoken in an Ironical Manner.]

[] A DREADFUL curse, exceeding all that's past,

The Liquor Law, hangs16 over us at last.
What is the reign of whisky punches o'er ?
Shall sherry cobblers greet the sight no more?
Is gone the brandy smash we loved so well!
Say, shall mint juleps but in memory dwell?
Where is the "flow of soul" that sweetly passes,
According to Tom MOORE, " through brimming glasses ?”
Gone our schnaps, brandy, whisky, rum and water!
Yes, topers, learn the taste of pure cold water!

[-Pl.] Mourn for your loss, ye wretched Englishmen-
Mourn for your ale that shall not come again!
Weep, weep, ye Germans-weep the scalding tear :
In vain your souls may thirst for lager bier.

Ye fast youths, let your heads in grief be bowed,
And smile no more, for "smiles" are not allowed.
́Alas, 'tis done! ́ Our cup of grief runs o’er—
Our mighty grief that we shall drink no more!

No. 19.-God's Omnipotence.

[-] The mountain hiding its snowy' head in the clouds; the river rolling its irresistible current; the boundless1 expanse of ocean; the raging agitations of the tempest-these are sublime objects which affect the most stupid and unfeeling hearts. But what are these, in comparison with Him "who counteth the nations as the small dust of the balance; who taketh up the isles as a very little thing; who stretcheth out" the north over the empty space, and hangeth' the earth upon nothing?"

DIALOGUES.

NO. VIII. CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES.

(Snarl, a merchant, at his desk, with cloth lying upon the counter. Enter Spunge.)

Spunge. Your most obedient, sir. Have I the honor of addressing my friend, Mr. Snarl?

Snarl. My name, sir, is Snarl; but I do not recognize your countenance. "Eight and six are fourteen

Sp. I dare say. It is many years since we sailed in the same steamboat to Albany. I now put up with lawyer Keen, of your city, and

Sn. I am lawyer Keen's and your humble servant, but as we have no business together that I know of, you will excuse me. "Carry five."

Sp. I find, sir, upon looking over my late father's papers, an account of a debt left unpaid, and am come

Sn. It is no business of mine; I owe no man. "Two and seven Sp. I wish I could say as much for myself, but I find that my father was indebted to yours, in the small balance of fifty dollars, and as a man of honor, I am come to discharge the debt.

Sn. (Rising.) My dear sir, ten thousand pardons for my forgetfulness! I remember you perfectly now. Yes, you lived in Kinderhook, and we were schoolmates. Pray, sir, be seated. (Hands a chair.)

Sp. Dear sir, if those who are indebted to me had a little of my punetuality, I should be a richer man than I am; but to have my name in one's book is a thing I can't bear.

Sn. And yet the generality of people bear it very patiently.

Sp. I am upon thorns, in a manner, while I owe one farthing; and for that reason I am come to know when you'll be at leisure to receive the money. Sn. No time like the present.

Sp. True. I have it at home, ready told; but as I have the management of my father's effects only as a guardian for my daughter Harriet, it's proper that the other guardians should be by at the payment.

Sn. Very true, sir; then what do you think of to-morrow at three o'clock ? Sp. With all my heart. But I have interrupted you, perhaps. (Rises.) Why, sir, I imagine you do more business than all the shopkeepers in this part of the country put together.

Sn. I can't complain.

Sp. No, you have such a way with you that those who buy once can't, for the blood of them, help coming to you again. A pretty bit of cloth this. Sn. Very pretty.

Sp. One meets, in your shop, such a generosity of treatment, and polite. ness of behavior, that makes it pleasanter to pay money than to receive it elsewhere. The wool seems tolerably fine.