the sun must become nearly darkened, whereas in some countries it is scarcely to be observed, in others it is visible to a greater degree, and, again, in some parts it is total.

Not only does the moon sometimes darken the earth, but the latter throws its shadow over the moon, and thus impedes the sun's rays from reaching this planet; and then the moon is said to be eclipsed. This must necessarily happen when the moon is full, the sun being opposite to it and the earth between them. As the moon is in itself an opaque body, its eclipse is to be seen from all the points of our hemisphere.

I feel convinced that some of my readers are anxious to know the use of eclipses of the sun and moon. By means of these phenomena we can determine the true position and distance of cities and countries; and accurate maps of the most distant countries have been drawn by the observations made from them. Eclipses, well observed, assist also in establishing chronological dates; and they are of importance to the navigator, by informing him how far he is east or west. However trifling these consequences may be thought, they are nevertheless of no trifling weight; and the world without them would be wanting in much of its happiness.

When we contemplate an eclipse of the sun or moon, we should think of the great events which will take place at the end of the world. What an awful spectacle will the darkened moon and expiring sun present! How will man's heart fail him when the sun and the moon shall disappear-when the heavens shall pass away with a mighty and a rushing noise-when

the elements shall be dissolved by the intensity of God's consuming fire! Oh! how my heart

pants for a dwelling in that blessed place, where neither sun nor moon shall be required.

JUNE 29.

THE STALK OF CORN.

You see, my dear Reader, how progressively the tender corn ripens, in order eventually to produce for us wholesome and nutritious bread, a blessing not to be described, which nature provides for man: glance your eye over a field of wheat, calculate the millions of ears which cover the surface of a single field, and reflect upon the wisdom of those laws which produce such a surprising abundance. How many preparations were necessary to procure for us this most indispensable food! How many progressive changes must take place in nature before the ear of corn could raise its head! It is now ready to nourish you with its fruits, and invites you, at the same time, to meditate upon its

structure.

When the grain of corn has been some time in the ground, it shoots forth a stalk, which rises perpendicularly but slowly, in order to favour the maturity of the grain. It is wisely ordered that the stalk should attain the height of four and even five feet, because, by this means, the grain is preserved from the humidity of the earth, which would injure it: this height of the stalk contributes also to the circulation of the nutritious juices which the root imparts,

and its roundness assists in this operation: the heat, too, from this circumstance penetrates equally all parts. But whence is it that these slender stalks can bear the weight of a full ear of corn without bending under it, without sinking under the slightest breeze? The Creator, in constructing a blade of corn, has provided against these inconveniences; he has strengthened the stalk by four strong knots, which act as ligatures, strengthening it, yet without depriv ing it of its pliability: the structure of these knots is a manifestation of divine wisdom; each is like a sieve, through the pores of which the juices ascend, and through which the heat penetrates: the juices are attenuated and refined by this process. The weakness of the stem is its greatest security; for, by yielding to the blast, it remains unbroken, even in the heaviest rains. It is true that, if it possessed more strength, it might neither bend nor break: yet one of its principal uses would then be done away with; for how would it serve as a bed for the poor? By the side of the principal tube others spring up, but to a less height; the leaves of which collect the dew and drops of rain, and thus furnish those nutritious juices which are necessary for their support. The ear is formed by degrees; and, in order to preserve it from injury, the two upper leaves of the stalk envelop it entirely, and convey nourishment to it at the same time; but, when the stalk has attained sufficient size and strength to support the plant, then these leaves dry away as useless. This covering being removed, the ear displays itself in all its beauty, bending gracefully to the slightest breeze; day

by day it increases in size, filling the heart of the husbandman with joy: delighted with its golden hue, he views the waving fields, and at the appointed time it sinks beneath his sickle.

What astonishing wisdom and power are displayed in the formation of a stalk of wheat! And yet they pass unnoticed, because they are so constantly under our eye: but what other proof of his goodness can our breath bestow, if we are not touched with this? Ungrateful man, open thine heart to the sentiments of joy and gratitude: so long as thou canst contemplate a field of corn with indifference, so long wilt thou be unworthy the food it provides for thee. Rouse thyself, O man! and taste the noblest pleasure of which a mortal can be sensible, that of discovering thy Creator in every creature. Then, and then only wilt thou show thyself superior to the brute, and approach the beatitude of the elect of God.

JUNE 30.

THE APHIS.

THE aphis is that class of insects which is found upon the stalk and leaves of plants in such prodigious numbers as completely to cover them. The classes of the aphis are almost as numerous as those of plants, and they claim our attention more than any other insect, from the singularities which they display: one of their distinguishing characteristics is this-that they not only lay eggs, but sometimes bring forth their young alive. During the warm weather

they are viviparous: at that period the plants are tender and juicy, and produce ample nourishment for them. In the autumn they are oviparous; but the eggs then laid are not hatched till the ensuing spring, and the reason is evident -the animal would perish for want of food. Precisely at the time the females begin to lay, the males make their appearance: a solitary aphis, however, taken at the moment of its birth, and placed under a glass, will produce young ones when it has attained a certain growth; and, at the end of a short time, it will be surrounded by a large family. This race of insects exhibits another peculiarity: the males of some kinds of insects have wings, and the females have not; but the aphides possess both males and females with and without them, and the former are so diminutive that they crawl about the latter as a fly would upon a peach.

This remarkable example of the singularities to be found in nature leads us to inquire what reason the Almighty has to depart from those laws which he himself has established, and which appear perfect. In order to reply to this question, it would be necessary that our understanding should embrace at one view the whole of created things, and be capable of comprehending their different relations the one to the other, and also of ascertaining to a certainty what is really useful or prejudicial among them; but, so thorough a knowledge being infinitely too profound for our limited understanding, let us content ourselves with a few general reasons, which may serve as a solution to the question proposed. In the first place, by these deviations from