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conjuror, or a diviner of secrets, and yet, methinks, in the present case I shall almost pass for one. have observed you repeatedly fix your eyes ou yonder bright planet, which seems, on account of the extreme purity of the atmosphere, to sparkle with a more than ordinary vividness: your ruminations, or I am much deceived, had for their subject the plurality of inhabited worlds.”

"You are certainly a wizard," she returned, in a voice that never fails to thrill me with emotion, 66 to divine so exactly the theme of my meditations; my thoughts were indeed employed upon that very thing. 1 was considering," she continued, "whether all these innumerable planetary systems that fill the immensity of space which surrounds us, might not have been formed on the principle of graduated perfection; that is, that each one may rise above the other in regard to its physical construction, as well as in the intellectual and moral character of its inhabitants."

"A very probable conjecture," I replied; " at least, we may conclude that there are not two systems form ed perfectly alike, and then there will be ample room to suppose that some must be much more perfect than others. The philosopher of Ferney has observed "He," (the Deity,)" has created millions of worlds, not one of which bears any resemblance to another. This immense variety is an attribute of his immense power. There are no two leaves of a tree on earth, no two globes in the infinite fields of heaven, which are alike," "But in this case," said Charlotte, "I am rather puzzled to ascertain the comparative situation of our little terrestrial ball. I cannot allow it, indeed, to he among the number of the more exalted habitable spheres; but whether it be one of the lower links that help to extend the universal chain of worlds, is a question not so easy for me to determine upon.'

"We will place it if you please," I replied, "about the centre, for it seems to contain an almost equal quantity of perfect good and absolute evil: its physi cal imperfections are indeed so very apparent, that they make us almost doubt whether Nature had a benevolent design in its formation; while, on the other hand, it has so many excellencies attached to it, that

they cannot fail to fill our hearts with grateful love for that Mighty Power to which it owes its existence. It contains sufficient vice upon its surface to humble completely the pride of man, by shewing to him the greatness of his natural depravity, and consequently his natural insignificance; while, at the same time, it exhibits enough of virtue and sublimity of sentiment, to make him suppose that it is not meant for his final destination. For instance now, I love those genial climes where Nature exhibits herself in all the blooming exuberance of her charms; but the very idea of the frigid zones chills my imagination, and seems to render it as desolate as the scenery of ice-bound seas, and those inhospitable shores which are covered with perpetual snows. I hail with rapture the approach of Summer, and all those blessings which follow in her train; but then, hoary Winter still returns to blast the smiling scene, and extinguish the awakened ardour of my breast. I am delighted at the survey of the verdant hills and fruitful vallies, which diversify a part of the earth's surface; but then the fearful chasms, the sterile rocks, the barren deserts, which deform another portion of it, are by no means congenial with my ideas of a beautiful world. I love the gentle undulation of the soft southern breezes, especially when they are redolent from the vernal bloom; but I hate the cold aud rude blasts of the north, the furious hur. ricane, the wild tornado, for they are only calculated to destroy the harmony of my soul. I love that gentle spirit of benevolence and sublime disposition to virtue which are not unfrequently found among our species; but then I abhor that sordid avarice, that brutal ferocity, by which the far greater portion of mankind are influenced. I admire the agricultural arts; their very implements I behold with a sort of pleasure, as being so many symbols of sacred peace: I view with complacency the reaper's toil, for I love the rustic ceremony of the harvest home, which follows it, and the joyous dance upon the village green; but then war, accursed war, too frequently waves high his horrific banner over a desolated world, and in his demoniacal rage drenches with carnage the very spot which might have been the seat of these rural pastimes.

TO BE RESUMED.

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LONDON. PUBLISHED BY JOEN ABLISS. STAINING LAW.CHEAPSIDE.

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AND now the moon had dimmed with dewy ray
The few fine flushes of departing day;

O'er the wide water's deep serene she hung,
And her broad lights on every mountain flung;
When lo! a sudden blast the vessel blew,
And to the surge consigned the little crew.
All, all escaped-but ere the lover bore
His faint and faded JULIA to the shore,
Her sense had fled!-Exhausted by the storm,
A fatal trance hung o'er her pallid form;
Her closing eye a trembling lustre fired;
'Twas life's last spark-it fluttered and expired!
The father strewed his white hairs in the wind,
Called on his child-nor lingered long behind;
And FLORIO lived to see the willow wave,
With many an evening-whisper, o'er the grave.
Yes, FLORIO lived-and still of each possest,
The father cherished, and the maid caressed!

Pleasures of Memory, part II. p. 48.

No. 45.

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