acquainted are subject to congelation. Even spirits of wine, which long resist the influence of cold, and are, therefore, used in our thermometers, have been converted into a solid mass, by the cold of northern regions; and quicksilver, which is naturally a fluid substance, has been converted by cold into a compact body, capable of being hammered like a piece of lead. Nay, even some of the gases, o aërial fluids, show a disposition to congeal by a reduction of temperature. The oxygenized muriatic-acid gas becomes concrete, and forms into crystals, at a temperature near to that at which water freezes. All the gaseous substances, when they have lost their elasticity, by forming certain combinations, are disposed to assume the solid state, if the temperature allow it. Ammoniacal gas, and carbonic-acid gas become solid, as soon as they enter into combination; and hydrogen gas, the most subtle of the ponderable elastic fluids, forms, along with oxygen, that very water which is afterwards congealed into ice. What is the reason, then, that the atmospheric air which we every moment breathe, is not subject to congelation? We know no other reason but the will of the Creator. Were we thoroughly acquainted with every particular respecting the nature of the gases of which it is composed, and the mode of their combination, we might, perhaps, discover the physical cause of this singular property; but still, we should ultimately have to refer it to the Divine purpose and will that such a

cause existed. which are suspended in the higher regions of the atmosphere, are frequently congealed into hailstones of a considerable size, and were any large portions of the air around us to be congealed in a similar manner, it is easy to foresee what disastrous effects would quickly be produced; and were the whole atmosphere to be frozen into a solid body, destruction would inevitably seize upon all the tribes of the living world, and the beautiful face of nature we now behold, would be transformed into a chaos.

We know that the vapours

Such is the intimate connexion that subsists between every part of the system of nature, and such is the exquisite mechanism with which all its parts are constructed and arranged, that if a single wheel or pinion of this vast machine were either wanting or deranged, the whole system would soon be dissolved, and fall into ruins. But that Almighty Being who sits on the throne of the universe, presides over all its subordinate movements, preserves every element in its respective station, and directs the apparently jarring principles of nature to accomplish his wise and benevolent designs.

In fine, we may just further remark, that man has acquired a certain degree of sovereignty over the atmosphere, by which he renders it subservient to his comforts, and to the execution of his designs. He causes it to sigh in the pipe, to complain in the flute, to thunder in the trumpet and the gong, and to utter a thousand melodious strains in the piano

forte and the organ. He causes it to announce tidings of joy or sorrow. He forces it to grind his corn, to blow his furnaces, to winnow his grain, to raise water from the deepest pits, and to extinguish the flames when his buildings are on fire. He compels it to act as a prime mover in an endless variety of machinery, and, by its agency, in combination with other powers, ten thousands of wheels and pinions are daily set in motion--power-looms are weaving fabrics of various descriptions-spinningjennies are set in action, steam-vessels impelled along rivers, and across oceans--and railway trains carried forward in every direction with the most rapid motions. He yokes it to his ships, and compels it to expand the sails, and to waft him across the billows of the ocean to the remotest shores. And, in short, it is on the wings of the atmosphere that he raises himself, with his balloons, above the mountaintops, looks down from on high on the dusky earth, and ranges at large through the region of the clouds.

Thus, a few of the beneficial effects produced by the atmosphere in the system of nature, have been briefly stated. Its influence is essential to the germination and growth of plants, to the preservation of water in a state of fluidity, to the existence of fire and flame, to the respiration of all kinds of animals, to the process of evaporation, and the production of rain and dew; to support the clouds, and to give buoyancy to the feathered tribes. It is the

region of winds-the vehicle of smells-the medium of sounds, and the source of all the pleasures we derive from the harmonies of music; it is the cause of that universal light and splendour which are diffused around us, and of the advantages we derive from the morning and evening twilight; and all these advantages are more fully secured by the transparency of its particles, and by its being rendered incapable of being congealed into a solid body.

What, then, would be the consequences were the earth to be divested of its atmosphere? Were the hand of Omnipotence to detach this body of air from our globe, and could we suppose living beings at the same time to exist, the landscape of the earth would be disrobed of all its vegetable beauties, and not a plant nor flower would be seen over the whole face of nature; the springs and rivers would cease to flow, even the waters of the mighty deep would be dried up, and its lowest caverns exposed to view, like frightful and hideous deserts. No fire nor heat would cheer the abodes of man, either by day or by night, no rains nor dews would refresh the fields, no gentle zephyrs would blow, nor aromatic perfumes be wafted from blooming flowers. The birds would no longer wing their flight on high, nor would their warblings be heard among the groves. No sound whatever would be heard throughout the whole expanse of nature, universal silence would reign undisturbed over the world, and the delights of music

be for ever unknown. The morning would no longer be ushered in by the dawn, nor the day protracted by the evening twilight. All would be gloom and obscurity by day, except in that quarter of the heavens where the sun appeared, and no artificial light nor flame could be procured to cheer the darkness of the night. The whole surface of the globe would present one wide prospect of barrenness and desolation, without a single object of beauty to relieve the horrors of the scene; and this earth, which now presents to the beholder so many objects of sublimity and beauty, would appear as if it had sunk into the primitive chaos whence it arose. But, as we are certain that, according to the present economy of the animal system, no living creatures could exist in such a state of things, it would be an inevitable consequence of the annihilation of the atmosphere, that all the myriads of living beings which now people the waters and the earth, would sink into remediless destruction, and the great globe we inhabit be transformed into one immense sepulchre, without enjoyment, motion, or life.

If, therefore, the Creator had not a regard to the happiness of his sensitive and intelligent offspring-or, if he wished to transform this globe into an abode of darkness and a scene of misery, he has only to support the functions of animal life on a new principle, and then to sweep from the earth the atmosphere with which it is now environed, and the dismal catastrophe is at once accomplished. Such a consideration shows