a fainter side, by regular alternations. Now, there are some of the fixed stars which present this appearance. They present us with periodical variations of light. From the splendour of a star of the first or second magnitude, they fade away into some of the inferior magnitudes; and one, by becoming invisible, might give reason to apprehend that we had lost him altogether; but we can still recognise him by the telescope, till at length he re-appears in his own place, and, after a regular lapse of so many days and hours, recovers his original brightness. Now, the fair inference from this is, that the fixed stars, as they resemble our Sun, in being so many luminous masses, of immense magnitude, they resemble him in this also, that each of them turns round upon his own axis; so that, if any of them should have an inequality in the brightness of their sides, this revolution is rendered evident, by the regular variations in the degree of light which it undergoes.

"Shall we say, then, of these vast luminaries, that they were created in vain? Were they called into existence for no other purpose than to throw a tide of useless splendour over the solitudes of immensity? Our Sun is only one of those luminaries, and we know that he has worlds in his train. Why should we strip the rest of this princely attendance? Why may not each of them be the centre of his own system, and give light to his own worlds? It is true that we see them not; but could the eye of man take its flight into those distant regions, it would lose sight of our little world before it reached the outer limits of our system-the greater planets would disappear in their turn-before it had described a

small portion of that abyss which separates us from the fixed stars, the Sun would decline into a little spot, and all its splendid retinue of worlds be lost in the obscurity of distance-he would at last shrink into a small indivisible atom, and all that could be seen of this magnificent system, would be reduced to the glimmering of a little star. Why resist any longer the grand and interesting conclusion? Each of these stars may be the token of a system as vast and as splendid as the one which we inhabit. Worlds roll in these distant regions; and these worlds must be the mansions of life and of intelligence. In yon gilded canopy of heaven, we see the broad aspect of the universe, where each shining point presents us with a Sun, and each Sun with a system of worlds-where the Divinity reigns in all the grandeur of His attributes-where He peoples immensity with His wonders; and travels in the greatness of His strength, through the dominions of one vast and unlimited monarchy.

"The contemplation has no limits. If we ask the number of suns and of systems, the unassisted eye of man can take in a thousand, and the best telescope which the genius of man has constructed, can take in eighty millions. But why subject the dominions of the universe to the eye of man, or to the powers of his genius? Fancy may take its flight far beyond the ken of eye or of telescope. It may expatiate in the outer regions of all that is visible—and shall we have the boldness to say, that there is nothing there?-that the wonders of the Almighty are at an end, because we can no longer trace His footsteps?—that His omnipotence is exhausted because human art can no longer follow Him?-that the creative energy of God has sunk into

repose, because the imagination is enfeebled by the magnitude of its efforts, and can keep no longer on the wing through those mighty tracts, which shoot far beyond what eye hath seen, or the heart of man hath conceived: which sweep endlessly along, and merge into an awful and mysterious infinity?"

Leaving now the consideration of the heavens, and all that is therein contained,-as far as mere wonder and admiration are concerned,-let us pass on to observe the use which man makes, under Providence, of his knowledge of the celestial bodies and their motions; remembering that, next to the faithfulness of their great Author, the motions of those bodies are more faithful and regular than aught else, which comes under man's experience.

THE especial use of astronomical science, in reference to the common affairs of life, is to regulate the order of TIME. It is only within the last few hundred years that astronomy has been cultivated with such improved means, as to allow of anything like precision and uniformity in measuring off successive portions of man's brief existence here. But the necessity and importance of doing this are so obvious, that the wisest and most skilful of mankind, in different ages and countries, have given their attention, to determine and to compare standards of time, which shall be of universal reference and applicability to the whole human race. How far, and by what means, they effected this object, in an elementary way, we will endeavour to explain, as far as the question is comprehended within the limits of astronomy.

The terms Almanac and Calendar may be considered as synonymous; but, if any distinction may be admitted, the former implies an annual publication, comprising the Calendar for the year ensuing, as also all other information relating to the actions of men in the civil affairs of life, which it is necessary to know and act up to, in order to discharge our duties as good subjects, good neighbours, and "citizens of the world.”

But the Calendar seems now to be understood to be a methodical digest of the ensuing year into its months

and days, with all the information relating to such individual months and days, particularly with respect to celestial phenomena; such as the motions of the Sun, Moon, and planets.

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Now, whether we call the book of which we speak, an Almanac" or a "Calendar," our observations can only apply to that part of it which furnishes a digest of the year, with reference to the motions of the celestial bodies*. We shall, therefore, treat of the subject, first, with reference to the ALMANAC or CALENDAR; and secondly, by explaining the common NOTES of the Calendar.

I. The word "Almanac" has given rise to much discussion among philologists, or lovers of reading: but it seems to imply, according to its derivation from the Arabic, the book used for reckoning or counting.

The CALENDAR is an adjustment of time, according to rule, for the use of society. The term "Calendar" is derived from an old classic word, implying to call, from the circumstance of the Pontifex Maximus, the head of the ancient priests, being used to proclaim, on the first day of the month, the appearance of the new moon, and the festivals to be observed throughout the month.

One column in an Almanac is frequently the days of the year, and we number them from the 1st of January onward to the 31st of December; so that the last-mentioned day is the 365th of the year. There are not many persons now living who remember when the year commenced on the 25th of March: yet such was the

* Such a work, when intended chiefly for the use of persons conversant in astronomy, is called an Ephemeris. See p. 79.