ERIE CANAL-CATHOLIC CHURCH, BOSTON. ERIE CANAL, At Little Falls, New York. 121 The funds he had collected were carefully remitted to Boston, and under the care of the exnot, however, till after his death, that the concellent Dr. Matignor greatly increased. It was vent was established by Bishop Chevereux-the present Arch Bishop of Bordeaux. His knowenabled him to effect this purpose without excitledge of character, and his excellent judgment ing any repugnance in the minds of the Bosto nians. That stupendous monument of human ingenuity and perseverance, the Great Clinton Canal, presents few more interesting scenes than the Little Falls of the Mohawk, when taken in connection with the triumphant work which runs immediately beside it. The view afforded from a packet boat, of mountain scenery on either side, with a bare passage for the dashing waters of the Mohawk between, is highly interesting and sublime. Whichever way the eye is turned, it rests on huge masses of granite and limestone, piled in heaps. These rocks in some places rise to a great height, almost perpendicular, presenting a bleak, black surface, unbleached by the thousand storms which have beat upon them; others present a ragged and uneven face, crowned and overhung by dark evergreens, dropping their verdure into the foaming torrent below. The fissures between others of these huge piles, produce hickory, maple, and other trees, which hang from them, and with their sombre shadow, deepen the gloomy darkness of the rocks from which they spring, whilst the scanty soil upon others, gives life and penurious nourishment to dwarf oaks and vegetation peculiar to similar inhospitable regions. In this scene, where the rude, but magnificent works of nature are so profusely displayed, the imagination is overpowered in their sublimity, and the proudest works of man, and man himself, lose their importance." Even the canal, cut upon the mighty and enduring precipice, the road entrenched upon the mountain side, and the substantial locks and gates, all sink into comparative insignificance under the mighty shadow of the everlasting hills. CATHOLIC CHURCH, At South Boston, Mass. In the grave yard of the little Catholic church at South Boston, lies buried the remains of Mary Joseph Ryan. She was a native of Ireland, and at sixteen was introduced to Mr. Thayer, who became a convert to the Roman Catholic faith in Boston, and quitted his native country with the design of procuring funds in Europe for establishing a nunnery. This purpose was seconded by the pious Catholics abroad, and they willingly aided the design. After he had nearly accomplished his object, and was preparing to return from his pilgrimage, he was taken dangerously sick at Dublin. Mary Ryan attended him with affectionate zeal:-he often expressed a wish that she might in some future day become the head of the institution it was his earnest wish to establish. This however, as she said, "was of all things the most improbable, and could only be brought about by the grace of God." As Mr. Thayer was extremely poor, and scrupulously refused to appropriate the smallest part of what he had collected, to his own wants, Mary prevailed on her parents to have him removed to their own house, where she nursed him and watched over him for many months, and finally received his parting breath, when to use her own language he was called "to join the glorious company of saints, apostles and martyrs!" From the time of Mr. Thayer's death, Mary Ryan felt that her "vocation" was a religious one. It was not however till many years after, that she came to Canada and took the veil in a convent at Quebec. The prophetic visions of her early friend were then accomplished, and she was invited by Bishop Chevereux to become the Superior of the Convent established in Boston. With how much dignity, simplicity, and fervent piety she filled this office, was witnessed by many. The great object of the institution was to give instruction to the children of the Irish Catholics who were constantly emigrating to America. She daily superintended a school of more than an hundred scholars, whose parents were mostly too poor to render any compensation. Her maternal kindness made the deepest impression on their minds and characters-it was probably of a nature they had never experienced at home, where want and hardship chill even the current of parental tenderness. The funds of the institution were small, but enough," said the Superior," for our's is a vow of poverty." she quitted life without a wish to remain, and After a few years her health began to decline, was buried at South Boston. The funeral services were performed in the humble church by Mr. Taylor.-We pause at the mention of this name, and who will not that knew him! He too has joined the circle of bright spirits" whose faith is swallowed in vision!" The coffin which contained the remains of the Superior, was placed on the floor in the principal aisle of the church. After an address calculated to soothe and elevate the minds of the audience, Mr. Taylor informed the children they might draw near and take a last view of their instructress. The children pressed forward and knelt round the coffin of their best friend. All had been silent and calm till this moment, except now and then a sob which could not be suppressed-now, their grief was audible. There was no uniformity in their dress, no external badges of mourning, no procession, no arrangement to heighten effect, it was that deep untaught sorrow that springs from the heart. The youthful mourners pressed their lips to the glass plate that was inserted in the lid of the coffin, but they were not permitted to gaze on the features; the face of the vestal was covered by a white veil; they extended their arms as if once more to embrace their beloved friend; one or two children seemed exhausted by emotion and laid their heads on the coffin as if it were a pillow, and wept. When it was conveyed to the tomb in the grave yard of the church, the sun was just setting. It was early in the spring, and the ground was humid with the frosts of winter. All 122 THE GRAVES OF THE UNCUSES-THE FROST SPIRIT-MY SISTER'S GRAVE. was still and solemn, and every thing in unison with the scene. When the remains were placed in their last silent mansion, not a sob was heard; the Catholics knelt and pressed their crucifixes to their lips; we too who were not Catholics, as we looked into this dark and dreary abode, felt as if it were the gate that led to Heaven. The form of objects is continually changing; the sketch which accompanies this tribute to a friend, was taken in the year 1828, from Dorchester heights, a place memorable in the history of the American revolution, and which is near the church. Since that time additions have been made to the building which injure its simplicity and proportions. We must likewise add that the institution of which Mary Ryan was the first Superior, has since been removed from Boston and located at Charlestown. The building erected for the purpose is spacious and convenient, the situation fine, overlooking the beautiful bay of Boston with its many islands. It is now a boarding school of a high order, and receives pupils of all The Graves of the Uncuses.* By Mrs. Jane E. Locke. They sleep unmarked, that warrior race, Spreads its proud shadow o'er the place, Rest those brave ones the while: The plover builds her lowly nest, And there the bittern seeks her rest— No deeds of valor or of praise, Their country's hand records; Heeds not the red man's grave. ** The burying ground of the Uncuses is on an elevated bank, north of Trading Cove, in Norwich, Conn., on the ground of Judge Goddard. There are stones marking the graves of numerous members of this royal family of the Mohicans, and a few of them bear English inscriptions. Uncas, the old friend of the white men, is buried here." Wound in the beaded belt they lie, The warrior by his sire; And he who with the flashing eye, Chief of his race is there. From the Saturday Evening Post. With hair as white as old ocean's foam, When his dark billows roll; And where his stormy voice is heard, And the frost which now at night appears, But still I love, by the wood fire's blaze, And list to the tale of other days, By aged matrons told. For the smiling eye, the voice of mirth, And pleasure oft does the youth entice, On skates to go o'er the frozen ice, With the moon and snow for light. ORIGINAL. AVON BARD. On visiting (with my Mother) my Sister's Grave. Sister, though thy body lies, Crumbling here beneath the ground; Thy Soul--(ere this) has reach'd the skies, And the dear Redeemer found. Sister dost thou us behold, From thy holy dwelling-place? * Daughter-we do hope to meet, With thee, in the courts above; With thee to worship-at his feet,Our Redeemer! God of love! C. F. D. PROBABILITY OF THE PLANETS BEING INHABITED. From the Saturday Evening Post. PROBABILITY OF THE PLANETS BEING INHABITED. It may be deemed a work of supererogation for me to attempt a subject so speculative as that I have undertaken: but I hope the neglect it has hitherto suffered, and the glowing advantages arising from our belief of its reality, will shield me from all unfavourable reflections. And indeed, were the theory universally received, that the ponderous masses which roll in harmonious silence around the radiant Sun were peopled by beings of the same nature in general as ourselves; that myriads of intelligent creatures were dispersed throughout the regions of space, whom we are destined to meet at a coming period, how great a change would ensue in our minds! our conceptions would magnify, our ideas swell with amazing velocity! We would dare to make excursions in our fancy to distant spheres, hold converse with their most eminent characters, and behold their progress in all the arts and sciences. 123 millions, the Earth at 96, and Herschel or the Georgium Sidus, at 1800 millions of miles distance. Then, it appears that they all compose one system, one whole, of which each is a constituent part.| "A fair sisterhood of planets seven Revolving round a central Sun." The Earth can claim no pre-eminence over the others. She is but a mole-hill, when compared to Jupiter; neither is she so remote from the Sun as several others, nor so near him as Mercury and Venus; nor is she central. She is inferior to others in every respect. Why then should we conclude she is the only one worthy to be the dwelling-place of man? The very fact that they revolve around the same centre, are subject to the same external laws, and preserve the strictest and logy, as far as we can perceive, is presumptive evidence that they were created with the same design. But, it is contended that, of the planets, some are too remote from the centre of light and heat, The reality, or at least, the probability of the and consequently too frigid for habitation, and planets being inhabited, it would appear to my others so near him as to be incessantly parched mind, could not long remain doubtful, were we by his arid beams. But this argument is by no to divest ourselves of those errors contracted in means conclusive. For in our own world, the the unguarded moments of infancy, and spurn polar bear is clothed in a skin of furs, and the from our thoughts those tales and that absurd elephant is destitute of hair; each adapted to philosophy imbibed from our nurses. Now, had the climate it occupies. And could not the inhaour judgments never been warped, and our cre- bitants of the planets be fitted to the regions they dulous minds erroneously imbued and greatly occupy? To a person at Saturn, our own world perverted; nay, had we never thought on the would seem exposed to rays of the Sun suffisubject, and were our minds brought to bear ciently intense to destroy every germ of vegetaupon it for the first time, it would require nothing tion, and he might wonder how the world itself but the light of nature unassisted by a single ob- could endure the heat. Then, since we are not servation, to become incontestibly assured that to be taken as a criterion, but have our present the planets were inhabited. For no one with an constitution only because it is adapted to our unperverted intellect can contend after the most station, we should admit the possibility that Mercursory examination, that the planets as well as cury is habitable, and the same may be remarkstars, were designed to give us light, all other ed of Saturn and the other superior planets.ends excluded. Who can say that the all-wise But it has been found, on the most mathematical One would create six orbs, some of them at the principles, that the heat of the Sun at Jupiter is distance of 1,000 millions of miles, which revolve three thousand times greater than that of the around a different centre and whose space is but full Moon upon the Earth. Hence, remote as a point, whose light a single ray, to illuminate he is, that planet is illuminated with much brilthe Earth? The single planet Jupiter would af-liancy. And the warmth of the Sun at Mercury ford 500 times more light were he substituted for is but six and a half times greater than with us. the Moon. Then, were the illuminating of this An argument on which I would place much "terraqueous ball" by their faint, twinkling, almost imperceptible rays, the design with which the planets were created, Providence has adopted a course, the simplicity and efficacy of which, to say the least, does not seem very obvious. But the idea is so palpably and incontestably absurd to any reasoning mind, that it is unworthy our further notice. A few general remarks on the nature and locality of the celestial bodies, may be of some advantage in discussing this subject. The planets are opaque bodies of different consistencies and of a globular form. Their opacity is known, since they are sometimes invisible; and the light they reflect was transmitted from the Sun. They are solid or consistent, or they could not resist the dissipative influence of caloric. They are globular, for in eclipses the extremity of the shadow is always circular. They revolve around one common centre, in obedience to the laws of gravitation. Mercury at the distance of 37 greater stress, is the different obliquities of the axis of the planets to those of their orbits; that is, the axis of the superior or more distant planets, make far less angles with the axis of the paths in which they revolve than the inferior ones. Jupiter and Saturn, and probably Herschel are parallel to their orbits; their ecliptics and equators coincide; hence, their poles have no long nights, the Sun is never hid to their inhabitants for any considerable space of time; consequently they can never become very cold, nor can the former heat entirely escape, before the Sun rises again, and dispersing the shades and frigidity of night, reinvigorates them with his welcome presence. In our globe, the poles are below the horizon, and inaccessible to the heat of the Sun, so long that they become completely frozen and remain perpetually in that state in defiance of the summer heat. But less caloric is requisite to preserve those planets moderately warm, since its influence is continually exerted; and their climate is rendered much less rigorous and more reconcilable to a mundane mind. Our globe, which is intermediate, is inclined 234 degrees to the ecliptic, and the result is, it is warmer in summer and colder in winter. But Venus, whose orbit is much less remote from the Sun, is inclined 75 degrees, evidently to obviate the great intensity of the solar rays. The obliquity of the planets diminishes with the distance; and the plain reason is to economise the heat among the remote, and to diminish its superabundancy with the neighbouring orbs. From these reasonings, I would infer the aptitude of the planets for habitation. I shall now notice some circumstances tending to prove them to be actually inhabited. proportionate to her magnitude. And we may conclude from analogy that the other planets have atmospheres also, though their distances have hitherto prevented such discoveries. Then since the aerial fluid has been bountifully furnished to meet the wants of any breathing creature, how rational is the belief that something is located there to inhabit it! 5. But their immense magnitude. The Earth is but the 2500th part of the grand sisterhood of planets. Surely then we should pause and ponder before consigning them to eternal sterility and entire barrenness. It would be less difficult to suppose some pitiless, scarce discernable orb, to be a blank, an useless incumbrance in the universe; but worlds 75 or 80,000 of miles in dia1. The large ring that encompasses Saturn.-meter surely deserve inhabitants; surely, they This ring is very broad, and circumscribes that were created for the use and sustentation of inplanet at the distance of 21,000 miles. Its nature numerable myriads of active, intelligent creahas not been definitely ascertained, but it has tures; surely they subserve the benevolence of been found to be concave and solid, and proba- the Creator by affording to millions the enjoybly designed as a reflector to transmit the rays ment of the many blessings of life. falling upon it to Saturn, its focus. 2. The various Moons or secondary planets that belong to their respective primaries. Of these, six belong to the Georgium Sidus; seven to Saturn, and four to Jupiter. All these moons are entirely invisible to the naked eye, and to be seen demand instruments of the first quality. This enormous mirror and those splendid retinues of satellites, would seem to indicate that they were made for other and more exalted ends than that of playing around and illuminating deserted, unpopulated, useless spheres which contain no vestiges of animation, but were left to bend their beautiful and harmonious courses around a stupendous central mass, in conjunction with several other orbs, one of which, though many hundred times inferior, was a field where millions and myriads of millions of intelligent creatures were bountifully nourished. 1 say these mighty appurtenances betoken life and action; they could not have been made for sport, nor to be gazed upon by a few philosophers through their glasses. In our world, if we can compare it with planets, some of which are 1,000 times superior; in our world, wherever nature has wrought such works as these, they have a specific and correspondent end. In fact every work of nature, how diminutive soever, is intended to accomplish some useful object. Then how great is the absurdity of supposing the planets uninhabited! for if so, we can imagine no end suited to the vast machinery; we can see nothing to stamp utility upon their face. 3. In addition: Why was their primeval quiescence annihilated and they ordained to roll one endless round upon themselves? Why was the agreeable vicissitude of day and night, of sun-shine and shade instituted, but as a provision of the bountiful parent of all for the necessities of his infirm and helpless children? 4. But again:-We know that animals, as well as vegetation, cannot exist unless an atmosphere be provided for their consumption. And whenever we find it, it is natural to conclude that this was its object. Venus, to which of all the planets we are most accessible, has been found to be encircled with an atmosphere Those are my arguments in support of planetary inhabitancy. 1 shall, in few words, recapitulate that you may view them in connexion, and see their combined force. I argued that the earth and other planets were destined to fulfil the same purposes, because they belong to one system, revolve around the same centre, are governed by the same laws and are of similar constitutions. I disproved the idea that some are too heated and others too cold to sustain life, by arguing that the nature of their inhabitants could be fitted to the different planets, as easily as ours are to the various parts of the Earth which we occupy, and by showing that the temperature of both was mitigated by several arrangements. I contended that they were inhabited, because many provisions have been observed in them to render their occupiers comfortable; such as the obliquities of their axis which decreases with the distance, the periodic returns of day and night which entirely correspond with the necessities of man, the atmosphere which envelops Venus and probably the others; the vast luminous ring that encompasses Saturn; the satellites of the remote spheres which greatly increase the light and heat of their respective primaries;-and their immense magnitude. Now, how absurd! how utterly ridiculous is it, to suppose, for a moment, that the planets were constructed as toys! that all this labor was performed for no object, or indeed for any object less than that contemplated! that those splendid machineries were perfectly adapted to all the wants and even desires of intelligent creatures, and then left blank! On the other hand, when we consider the immense quantum of knowledge that might be obtained by their inhabitants; when we reflect that the works of Providence might be understood to such greater perfection, by planting colonies here and there throughout; we are ready to dispel every doubt and cry out the planets must be, are inhabited! “View yonder pensile orb, and every sphere That gems the starry girdle of the year: In those unnt mbered worlds Hope bids thee tell Pure from their God created millions dwell!" CAMPBELL When we consider, in the words of an emi |