diffidence and modesty. We ought not to set limits to the wisdom and arrangements of the Creator, by affirming that rational beings could not exist and find enjoyment on such a globe as the sun, on account of the intensity of light and heat which forever prevails in that region. For it is probable, that the luminous matter that encompasses the solid globe of the sun, does not derive its splendor from any intensity of heat. If this were the case, the parts underneath, which are perpetually in contact with that glowing matter, would be heated to such a degree as to become luminous and bright, whereas we find that they have uniformly a dark appearance; so that it is possible the interior region of the sun may be in a state of comparatively low temperature.

For any thing we know to the contrary, or can demonstrate, the sun may be one of the most splendid and delightful regions of the universe; and scenes of magnificence and grandeur may be there displayed, far surpassing any thing that is to be found in the planets which revolve around it; and its population may as far exceed in number that of other worlds, as the immense size of this globe exceeds that of all the other bodies in the system. But, on the other hand, we know too little of the nature and constitution of the sun, and the plans of Divine Wisdom, to warrant us to make any positive assertions on this point. Although no intelligent beings were connected with this great luminary, its boundless influence in the planetary system; its being the soul and centre of surrounding worlds; its diffusing light, and heat, and genial influences of various kinds, to all the tribes of their inhabitants; and its cementing them all, by its attractive energy, in one harmonious system, are reasons sufficient for the creation of this vast globe; without the influence of which perpetual darkness would ensue; the planets would start from their spheres, and the whole system soon become one universal wreck.

RULE FOR THE READING OF SCIENTIFIC DESCRIPTIONS.

Descriptive passages of an exact and SCIENTIFIC character, like the preceding, should be read MORE SLOWLY, MORE DISTINCTLY and with STRONGER EMPHASIS and LONGER PAUSES, than ordinary descriptions.

EXERCISE LXVIII.

GREAT FIRE IN HAMBURGH, 1842. — Anon.

The following account of this tremendous conflagration, is extracted from the letter of a young lady, writing to her parents in England:

'On Thursday morning, the 5th of May, my sister, her husband, and I, walked to the French church. Frederick, our servant, on taking away the breakfast things, told us that a terrible fire had been raging, since eight or nine o'clock, but that, from our distance from the spot, we had no cause for alarm. A few hours afterwards, came the news that the flames were spreading every instant, in all directions.

more

'Towards four o'clock in the afternoon, we witnessed, from our attic windows, the destruction of St. Nicholas' Church. It was terrible to see this beautiful building become a prey to the element, which was growing more fearful, the ground it gained. The spectacle became, from hour to hour, more shocking. The whole city now began to show the most lively alarm. The bells, the firing of cannon, the cries and confusion in the streets, all presaged a night of anguish and

terror.

'Our apprehensions, alas! were but too faithfully realized. It was not, however, till night had spread her sad wings over the scene, that we could perceive the whole extent of the destruction which menaced the entire city. The heavens became as red as blood; the devouring flames, increased more and more by an impetuous wind, rose to a gigantic height.

'Some gentlemen came to say that serious measures were about to be taken, by blowing up some houses which were likely to cause the fire to spread farther. At half past twelve, I went to bed myself; but the noise of the explosions; the rumbling of the carriages and carts; the cries; the large flakes of fire, which every instant were driven impetuously by the wind, across my windows, threatening to set fire to our house; the excessive light of the conflagration; the whistling of the wind; and, as you will easily think, the idea that the lives of persons in whom we were interested were in continual danger;

not to mention the conviction of the numberless misfortunes that were happening, prevented all sleep. The windows trembled with the redoubled concussions of the explosions; and the whole house seemed as if it would be annihilated. In such a state, I could not close an eye: visions and dreams, but, above all, still sadder realities, presented themselves to my imagination continually.

Before three o'clock had struck, I found myself again with my sister; who, like me, had been kept awake by the dreadful noise caused by the blowing up of the Court-house. At this moment, an order of the police was announced to us, to wet the roof of our house, and to cause the water to flow in the gutters. Frederick had flown to the assistance of his brothers. We were therefore alone, and mounting on the roof, scarcely dressed, were soon throwing over it pails of water; and our neighbors were doing the same. We prepared ourselves for the worst, and threw on our clothes; the confusion increased; and we could not remain. We packed up, in sheets and in boxes, some of our effects.

'With the appearance of the day, our fears increased. It was a spectacle as sublime as it was fearful, to view the sun, clear and brilliant, rising in all its splendor over the Lombard's-bridge, and, on the city side, to see nothing but a single mass of flames.

'It was not, however, a moment for contemplation, but for action; for the worst was to come. We called for the coachman, to carry away the things we had packed; but how ridiculous to think we had any longer servants at our disposal! The city, or the passengers, had become masters of the coachmen of my brother-in-law and his mother; and not a man was to be got to carry away our effects, for love or money; our horses were harnessed to the fire-engines; and the greatest confusion prevailed.

'Now succeeded hours which I cannot describe to you. I do not speak too largely, when I say, there were thousands of cars full of furniture, of merchandize, and of people who were saving themselves. Two carts were burning before our house. With our own hands, we helped to extinguish the flames. A woman was on fire before our eyes: fortunately, I perceived it in time to save her. The horses became unmanageable, and fell down with fright. A tremendous shower of ashes and of flakes of fire, nearly suffocated us, and obstructed our

sight. The wind blew with great violence; and the dust was frightful.

The fire had now gained Saint Peter's. The people thought the Day of Judgment was come. They wept, they screamed; they knew not what to do, at the sight of so much misery. The horses, without drivers, were dragging the carts about in disorder, over the Esplanade. Soldiers escorted from the city the dead and the dying, and prisoners who had been plundering.

'At last, after the greatest efforts, we obtained carts and horses, to transport our goods; but the exhausted horses, as well as men, refused to work. With bread in our hands, we ourselves fed them. Whole families fell down and fainted, before our doors. Along all the walls, and out of the gates, nothing was to be seen but one spectacle of misery, a camp of unfortunates in bivouac, groaning, exhausted, famishing. 'After raging nearly one hundred hours, the fire stopped at the Steine-thor.* At present, we only think of doing all the good we can, of saving and cherishing. Do not think I have exaggerated the miseries I have spoken of: no pen or words can depict the reality.'

EXERCISE LXIX.

AN INCIDENT OF THE FIRE AT HAMBURGH.-J. R. Lowell. The tower of old Saint Nicholas soared upward to the skies, Like some huge piece of Nature's make, the growth of centuries;

You could not deem its crowding spires a work of human arí, They seemed to struggle lightward so from a sturdy living heart.

Not Nature's self more freely speaks in crystal or in oak, Than, through the pious builder's hand, in that gray pile she spoke ;

And as from acorn springs the oak, so, freely and alone, Sprang from his heart this hymn to God, sung in obedient

stone.

* Pronounced, Stinaytōr.

It seemed a wondrous freak of chance, so perfect, yet so rough,
A whim of Nature crystallized slowly in granite tough;
The thick spires yearned toward the sky in quaint, harmo-
nious lines,

And in broad sunlight basked and slept, like a grove of blasted pines.

Never did rock or stream or tree lay claim with better right
To all the adorning sympathies of shadow and of light;
And, in that forest petrified, as forester there dwells,
Stout Herman, the old sacristan, sole lord of all its bells.

Surge leaping after surge, the fire reared onward, red as blood;

Till half of Hamburgh lay engulfed beneath the eddying flood; For miles away, the fiery spray poured down its deadly rain, And back and forth the billows drew, and paused, and broke again.

From square to square, with tiger leaps, still on and on it

came;

The air to leeward trembled with the pantings of the flame, And church and palace, which even now stood whelmed but to the knee,

Lift their black roofs like breakers lone amid the rushing sea.

Up in his tower old Hermau sat and watched with quiet look ;
His soul had trusted God too long to be at last forsook;
He could not fear, for surely God a pathway would unfold
Through this red sea, for faithful hearts, as once he did of old.

But scarcely can he cross himself, or on his good saint call,
Before the sacrilegious flood o'erleaped the garden wall,
And, ere a pater half was said, 'mid smoke and crackling
glare,

His island tower scarce juts its head above the wide despair.

Upon the peril's desperate peak his heart stood up sublime; His first thought was for God above, his next was for his chime;

'Sing now, and make your voices heard in hymns of praise, cried he,

As did the Israelites of old, safe-walking through the sea'