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modations for animal subsistence and are supposed to be abodes of intellectual life. All which together with this our earthly habitation, are dependent on that grand dispenser of divine munificence, the sun; receive their light from the distribution of his rays; derive their comfort from his divine agency.
The sun is the great axle of heaven, about which, the globe we inhabit, and other more spacious orbs, wheel their stated courses. The sun, though seemingly smaller than the dial it illuminates, is abundantly larger than this whole earth; on which so many lofty mountains rise, and such vast oceans roll. A line, extending through the centre of that resplendent orb, would measure more than eight hundred thousand miles. A girdle, formed to surround it, would require a length of millions. Were its solid contents to be estimated the account would overpower our understanding, and be almost beyond the power of language to express.
Are we startled at these reports of astronomy? Are we ready to cry out in a transport of surprise, How mighty is the Being, who kindled such a prodigious fire, and who keeps alive, from age to age, such an enormous mass of fame! Let us attend our philosophic guides, and we shall be brought acquainted with speculations more enlarged, and more amazing.
This sun, with all attendant planets, is but a very little part of the grand machine of the universe. Every star, though in appearance no bigger than the diamond that glitters on a lady's ring, is really a mighty globe; like the sun in size, and in glory; no less spacious;cho less luminous than the radiant source of our day. So that every star is not barely a world, but the centre of a magnificent system; has a retinue of worlds, irradiated by its beams, and revolving round its attractive influence. All which are lost to our sight in unmeasurable wilds of ether.
That the stars appear like so many diminutive, and scarcely distinguishable points, is owing to their immense, and inconceivable distance. Such a distance, that a cannon ball, could it continue its impetuous flight, with unabating rapidity, would not reach the nearest of those twinkling luminaries for more than five hundred thousand years!
Can any thing be more wonderful than these observations? Yes; there are truths far more stupendous; there are scenes far more extensive. As there is no end of the Almighty Maker's greatness, so no im. agination can set limits to his creating hand. Could you soar beyond the moon, and pass through all the planetary choir; could you wing your way to the highest apparent star, and take your stand on one of those lofty pinnacles of heaven, you would there see other skies expanded; another sun, distributing his inex. haustible beams by day; other stars which gild the horrors of the alternate night; and other, perhaps nobler systems, established in unknown profusion through the boundless dimensions of space. Nor do the dominions of the universal Sovereigo terminate there. Even at the end of this vast tour, you would find yourself advanced no further than the suburbs of creation; arrived only at the frontiers of the great JEHOVAH'S kingdom.
PAPER, A POEM.
Whose hints show'd meaning, whose allusions,care,
The thought was happy, pertinent, and true,
Various the papers, various wants produce,
Pray note the fop; half powder and half lace;
Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth,
The wretch, whom av'rice bids to pinch and spare,
Take next the miser's contrast, who destroys Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys. Will any paper match him? Yes, throughout, He's a true-sinking paper, past all doubt.
The retail politician's anxious thought
The hasty gentleman, whose blood runs high,
What are our poets, take them as they fall,
Observe the maiden, innocently sweet,
One instance more, and only one I'll bring; 'Tis the great man whe scorns a little thing Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxims are his
CATO's SPEECH BEFORE THE ROMAN SENATE, AFTER THE
CONSPIRACY OF CATILINE.
HAVE often spoken before you, Fathers, with
some extent, to complain of luxury and the greediness for money, the twin vices of our corrupt citizens; and have thereby drawn upon myself abundance of enemies. As I never spared any fault in myself, I was not easily inclined to favor the criminal excesses of others.
But though you paid little regard to my remonstrances, the Commonwealth has still subsisted by its own strength; has borne itself up, notwithstanding your neglect. It is not now the same. Our manners, good or bad, are not the question; nor to preserve the greatness and lustre of the Roman empire; but to resolve whether all we possess
well or ill, shall continue ours, or be transferred with our. selves to enemies.
At such a time, in such a state, some talk to us of lenity and compassion. It is long that we have lost the right names of things. The Commonwealth is in this deplorable situation, only because we call bestow
ing other people's estates, liberality, and audaciousness in perpetrating crimes, courage.
Let such men, since they will have it so, and it is become the established mode, value themselves upon their liberality at the expense of the allies of the empire, and of their lenity to the robbers of the public treasury; but let them not make a largess of our blood; and, to spare a small number of vile wretches, expose
all good men to destruction. Do not imagine, Fathers, that it was by arms our ancestors rendered this Commonwealth so great, from so small a beginning. If it had been so, we should now see it much more flourishing, as we have more allies and citizens, more horse and foot, than they had. But they had other things, that made them great, of which no traces remain amongst us: at home, labor and industry; abroad, just and equitable government; a constancy of soul, and an innocence of manners, that kept them perfectly free in their councils; unrestrained either by the remembrance of past crimes, or by craving appetites to satisfy.
For these virtues, we have luxury and avarice, or 'madness to squander, joined with no less, to gain; the State is poor, and private men are rich. We admire nothing but riches; we give ourselves up to sloth and effeminacy; we make no distinction between the good and the bad; whilst ambition engrosses all the rewards of virtue. Do you wonder, then, that dangerous conspiracies should be formed? Whilst you regard nothing but your private interest; whilst voluptuousness solely employs you at home, and avidity or favor governs you here, the commonwealth, without defence, is exposed to the devices of any one who thinks fit to attack it.