ward the polar points, the rings will, in all probability, be quite invisible. During the space of fourteen years and nine months, which is half the year of the planet, the sun shines on the one side of these rings without intermission, and during the same period he shines on the other side. During nearly fifteen years, therefore, the inhabitants on one side of the equator will be enlightened by the sun in the day time, and the rings by night, while those on the other hemisphere, who live under the dark sides of the rings, suffer a solar eclipse of fifteen years' continuance, during which they never see the sun. At the time when the sun ceases to shine on one side of the rings, and is about to shine on the other, the rings will be invisible, for a few days or weeks, to all the inhabitants of Saturn. At first view, we might be apt to suppose that it must be a gloomy situation for those who live under the shadow of the rings, during so long a period as fifteen years. But, we are not acquainted with all the circumstances of their situation, or the numerous beneficent contrivances which may tend to cheer them during this period; and therefore are not warranted to conclude that such a situation is physically uncomfortable. We know that they enjoy the light of their moons without almost any interruption. Sometimes two, sometimes four, and sometimes all their seven moons, are shining in their hemisphere in one bright assemblage. Beside, during this period is the principal opportunity they enjoy of contemplating the starry firmament, and surveying the more distant regions of the universe, in which they may enjoy a pleasure equal, if not superior, to what is felt amidst the splendor of the solar rays; and it is not improbable, that multitudes may resort to these darker regions, for the purpose of making celestial observations. For the bright shining of the rings during the continuance of night will, in all probability, prevent the numerous objects in the starry heavens from being distinguished. The very circumstance, then, which might at first view convey to our minds images of gloom and horror, may be parts of a system in which are displayed the most striking evidences of beneficent contrivance and design. It has often been asked, as a mysterious question, 'What is the use of the rings with which Saturn is environed?' This is a question which, I conceive, there is no great difficulty in answering. The following considerations will go a great way in determining this question: 1. They are intended to produce all the varieties of celestial and terrestrial scenery which I have described above, and doubtless other varieties, with which we are unacquainted; and this circumstance of itself, although we could devise no other reason, might be sufficient to warrant the Creator in deviating from his general arrangements in respect to the other planets. For variety is one characteristic of his plans and operations, both in respect to the objects on our globe, and to those which exist throughout the planetary system; and it is accordant with those desires for novelty and variety which are implanted in the minds of intelligent beings. 2. They are intended to give a display of the grandeur of the Divine Being, and of the effects of his Omnipotence. They are also intended to evince his inscrutable wisdom and intelligence, in the nice adjustment of their motions and positions, so as to secure their stability and permanency in their revolutions along with the planet around the sun. 3. They are doubtless intended to teach us what varied kinds of sublimity and beauty the Deity has introduced, or may yet introduce, into various regions throughout the universe. We are acquainted with only a few particulars respecting one planetary system. But we have every reason to conclude, that many millions of similar or analogous systems exist throughout the unlimited regions of space. In some of these systems, the arrangements connected with the worlds which compose them, may be as different from those of our globe, and some of the other planets, as the arrangements and apparatus connected with Saturn are different from those of the planets Vesta or Mars. Around some of these worlds there may be thrown not only two concentric rings, but rings standing at right angles to each other, and enclosing and revolving around each other. Yea, for aught we know, there may be an indefinite number of rings around some worlds, and variously inclined to each other, so that the planet may appear like a terrestrial globe, suspended in the middle of an armillary sphere; and all these rings may be revolving within and around each other, in various directions, and on different periods of time, so as to produce a variety and sublimity of aspect, of which we can form no adequate conception. There is nothing irrational or extravagant in these suppositions: for had we never discovered the rings of Saturn, we could have formed no conception of such an appendage being thrown around any world, and it would have been considered in the highest degree improbable and romantic, had any one broached the idea. We are therefore led to conclude, from the characteristic of variety impressed on the universe, that Saturn is not the only planet in creation that is surrounded with such an apparatus, and that the number and position of its rings were not the only models according to which the planetary arrangements in other systems may be constructed. 4. Beside the considerations now stated, the chief use, I presume, for which these rings were created, was that they might serve as a spacious abode for myriads of intelligent creatures. If we admit that the globe of Saturn was formed for the reception of rational beings, we have the same reason to believe that the rings were formed for a similar purpose. It is not at all likely that a surface of 29,000,000,000 of square miles, capable of containing ten thousand times the population of our globe, would be left destitute of inhabitants, when there is not a puddle, or marsh, or drop of water, on our globe, but teems with living beings. These rings are as capable of supporting sensitive and intelligent beings as any of the globes which compose the solar system. They are solid bodies; they have an attractive power; they are endowed with motion; and from their surface the most grand and magnificent displays may be beheld of celestial scenery. From all the circumstances which have been stated above, it is evident that the numerous objects connected with the rings and with the globe of Saturn, were not intended merely to illuminate barren sands and hideous deserts, but to afford a comfortable and magnificent habitation for thousands of millions of rational inhabitants, who employ their faculties in the contemplation of the wonders which surround them, and give to their Creator the glory which is due to his name. A variety of other scenes and circumstances might have been detailed, in reference to the rings of Saturn; but this paper has already been protracted to an inconvenient length; and without figures and machinery, it is impossible to convey clear and definite ideas on this subject. T. D. Boston, December, 1837. THE GOOD WINE. O thou only God of wine, CYPRIAN wine is not for me, All the grapes in vintage crushed, Well refined or on the lees, Could not my ambition please; Draught that passing pleasure brings, Leaving ever-during stings. When my lips the beaker kiss, I have other wine than this, Taken from the fruitful hill, ALEXANDER Rosse, 1650. Whose rich spoil was gathered when How it stirs my languid blood! WILLIAM B. TAPPAN. WILSON CONWORTH. NUMBER NINE. 'ADIEU, adieu! my native shore The night winds sigh, the breakers roar, I HAVE said I took passage in a vessel bound to New-Orleans. I had never been at sea; and this was fortunate, for I required some excitement to arouse my torpid energies. It was a Sabbath evening, when we set sail. Hardly were we out of the harbor, when the wind rose, and drove us furiously on our course. The land was soon lost to view, in distance and darkness. There being danger on deck, I sought my cabin and sleep. The noise of the winds, the quick, startling commands of the captain, and the running here and there; the knocking of blocks, and tackles, and ropes; the groaning of the ship as the seas struck her, to me inexperienced, seemed to betoken imminent peril. Every moment, for I lay awake all night, I expected to hear cries of alarm, and to be buried in the waves. I resigned myself calmly to my fate. I thought we must perish; and it was joy to think, that that life which had been so tempestuous and stormy, was about to be closed on the wide sea, amid the conflicts of the elements, in solitude and darkness. was thankful, too, that time was allowed me to commend my soul to God; to ask forgiveness for my sins; to pray for the happiness of my friends, whom I had so much disregarded, and who had so often forgiven me. This is true. It was a blessed moment. I felt I had an immortal soul. I The danger, however, was all in my own imagination. It blowed hard, but we were perfectly secure. Landsmen have no idea of the power of a ship, or the magnificence of a real storm at sea. After once undergoing one, we are in possession of a secret; and a stiff gale is a source of pleasure rather than of pain. On land, the same wind that unroofs our houses, and prostrates the tall forest trees, breaks not the blade of grass, nor snaps the tender vine. A good ship yields in the soft element, and bends her head to the tempest. The danger at sea lies in squalls and sudden gusts. Give a seaman searoom enough, and he cares not how hard it blows, if it blow steadily. The morning dawned at last, and I had just fallen into a deep sleep, worn out with watching, when the captain roused me, and said, 'Come, if you would see a fine sight.' I went upon deck, and looked upon the most majestic scene my eyes ever beheld. The sun was just rising; not a cloud was in the sky; the waves ran mountain high, and their curled tops, covered with white foam, glistened in the slanting sun-beams. No land was in sight, but at some distance we could descry a tall ship dancing upon the waters, as if it were no heavier than a nut-shell. The crew looked fresh and animated, as they once more regained their own element; and the captain, whom on land I had thought a coarse, illiterate, clumsy, sleepy booby, now appeared to possess a dignity and force of character, which awed me into silent respect before him. The moment, however, we were seated at breakfast, out of sight of the sailors, he relapsed again into the easy, jovial companion; and I, in my turn, showed my superiority in the graces of the table. The laborer is graceful as he ploughs the field, or sweeps the scythe; the artisan is graceful at his work; the sailor on the sea, as he climbs the giddy mast. Men are only clowns, when they attempt that which is foreign to their natures and habits. Dress the laborer in rich garments, and set him to work; put the mechanic into a ball-room, or the sailor on the land, and they are awkward and clumsy. Ease, and the mens conscia recti, is gracefulness; consistency is gracefulness; to appear what we truly are, is to be truly dignified. As we proceeded out to sea, and the bracing air of the ocean operated upon my health, giving me life and gayety; as I underwent danger from storms, and heard our captain tell of his hair-breadth 'scapes' on the deep; of shipwreck, murder, famine, and death; my own misfortunes sank into insignificance, and I began to feel ashamed of myself for yielding to despair, in the presence of men who were happy and contented with the recollection of past misfortunes upon their minds, and the chance of danger always hanging over them. Confined to the narrow sphere of a village or family, we are apt to acquire a force of character only sufficiently strong to meet trite and common events. We look upon little things as large; we magnify inconveniences into misfortunes, accidents into judgments, and are frequently made positively unhappy by things unworthy the notice of an immortal being. Travel, and a larger intercourse with mankind, will correct this weakness. Our scope of comparison will be wider, and by getting to know that difficulty attends every enterprise; that all men, from the highest to the lowest, are not, in any one instance, exempted from suffering; we return to the circumscribed society of the village, and are happy by comparison. Though our bodies move only over a short space of earth, still, in our minds, we live in the world, in the widest sense, and acquire that elevation, and liberality, and reasonableness of thought, so great a source of happiness to others and to its possessor. After a very long, but not to me tedious passage, for I was sorry when we came in sight of land, we arrived at New-Orleans. I am not about to give a description of the country or cities; but the impression is still vivid in my memory, of the feelings I experienced as we stemmed the tide of the mighty river, and dragged by the low marshes to the mud-walled city of the South; the sink of filth; the palace of beauty; the France of America; the gambling dépôt of planters and desperadoes, uniting all nations, complexions, religions; all codes of morals, all steps to vice, all degrees of virtue. Here is the gloomy fanatic, the vociferating Methodist, the astute Jesuit, the self-satisfied Catholic, high-born and wealthy, devout in his observances, infidel in his sentiments, and polluted in his life, all walking side by side; while the calm, quiet, unassuming Quaker, emblem of meekness, Christian humility, and heavenly love, glides along his noiseless way, and impresses you with the belief, that true Christianity has yet her disciples on earth. With a year's allowance in my pocket, I set out to dissipate my |