made some progress. We certainly know two things about them, namely, that they are material substances, and that they are either cones or hollow cylinders. These two things, at least, have been established by the progress of modern science. It has, perhaps, occurred to most of my hearers to ask the question, What is the use of comets. It would be the height of presumption to suppose, for one moment, that they are of no use, because the part they play in the economy of the universe, is wholly unknown to us. But, in fact, we can partially, at least, see the use of the comets. There are, in the structure of the universal system of things, certain arrangements, which aid the mind of man to ascertain the order, the harmony, and the glory of the universe. The orbit of Mars, for example, is far more eccentric than that of any other orbit in our system. It was precisely this peculiarity in the orbit of Mars, the nearest of all the exterior planets to the earth, which enabled Kepler to ascertain those great and glorious laws, which won for him the proud title of 'the Legislator of the Skies.' But for that special arrangement, those laws would have still been unknown to the human mind; and Newton, deprived of such stepping stones, could not have ascended to the most sublime discovery ever made by man,-the law of universal gravitation itself. Or, in other words, if that eccentricity had not existed, the order and harmony of the universe would have still been concealed to mortal vision. But, as we have seen, it has been by the return of comets, that the great discovery of Newton was brought home to the mind of man, and stamped on his belief as a glorious reality. Nor is this all. For, it was by the presence of a comet near the planet Mercury, that astronomers have been enabled to weigh it, and ascertain its mass with a great degree of accuracy. It is, also, the existence of a very small comet, which seemed destined to test and decide the great question, whether or not there is a resisting medium throughout the regions of all space. That little, thin, and scarcely perceptible comet, usually known as Encke's, seems to be a delicate feeler put out, by the universe, on purpose to test the question as to the reality of such a medium; a question vitally connected with the nature of light, Comets and also with the final destiny of all things. will, also, it is highly probable, enable the human mind to determine certain great questions respecting the forces of the universe on which its physical constitution depends. In regard to Biela's comet, which, in 1832, was the terror of Paris, Sir John Herschel says: 'Its return was accordingly predicted, and the prediction verified with the most striking exactness. And this went on regularly till its appearance (also predicted) in 1846. In that year it was observed as usual, and all seemed to be going on quietly and comfortably, when behold! suddenly on the 13th day of January it split into two distinct comets! each with a head and coma and a little nucleus of its own. What domestic troubles,' continues he, 'caused the secession it is impossible to conjecture, but the two receded farther and farther from each other up to a certain moderate distance, with some degree of mutual communication and a very odd interchange of light-one day one head being brighter and another day the other till they seem to have agreed finally to part company. The oddest part of the story, however, is yet to come. The year 1852 brought round the time for their reappearance, and behold! there they both were, at about the same distance from each other, and both visible in one telescope.' Now, why was this? What force overcame the force of gravity, and split the once celebrated comet into two distinct comets? Sir John Herschel does not even indulge in a conjecture. But as we view these two comets standing apart in the heavens, in spite of the force of gravity, may we not liken them to two pith-balls suspended in a glass jar and standing out in direct opposition to each other, and to the law of gravity, because they are charged with similar electricities? We only guess or conjecture; we do not pretend to know. ART. VII.-1. The Feminine Soul: its Nature and Attri butes. With Thoughts on Marriage, &c. By Elizabeth Strutt. London: Hodson. 2. The Mental and Moral Dignity of Woman. By Benjamin Parsons. London: Snow. 3. Strictures on Female Education. By Hannah More. Works. London. 1830. The world is not given to patient reflection or meditation. It has certainly not bestowed much patient, careful, conscientious thought on the greatest of all earthly subjects,-the nature, the education, and the influence of woman. If, indeed, we may judge from the practice of most men, they consider this great subject one for the display of their wit, rather than for the exercise of their wisdom. How many, for example, endeavor to display their wit, if not to gratify their malice, by ill-natured flings at the sex; while others, far more numerous, seek to win their good opinion by ingenious flatteries or well-turned compliments. The first class, or those who aim to show their wit at the expense of woman, only display their stupidity at their own expense. We have never been able to hear one of these men talk, or rather one of these miscreants, without a feeling of utter loathing and contempt; and the more he has been pleased to say against the sex, the more has he fallen in our estimation. Are such creatures ashamed of their own mothers? Their mothers certainly have good reason to be ashamed of them. Have they no sisters, no dear old aunts, no fair cousins? They certainly deserve to have none. If an antipathy to woman renders genius itself contemptible, what shall we say of it in those conceited coxcombs, who have nothing to glory in except that they belong to the masculine gender? What shall we say of the sorry jibes of those poor forlorn misogynists, who have none of the qualities of Pope except his deformity, or nothing of the genius of Swift except its malignity? Is it not, indeed, the severest satire that can be pronounced on woman to say that she is the mother of such creatures? Few men of genius, however, are to be found among the libellers of the sex. For one Pope, or one Swift, in their ranks, there are a hundred brainless bipeds, who daily and devoutly thank God that they were not born women; are not 'the weaker vessels' of humanity. We intend to say a word about woman. We have nothing to say about this or that particular class of women. when Lord Byron says, I've seen your stormy seas and stormy women, And pity lovers rather more than seamen,' Hence, we have not one word to offer in reply. We do not defend stormy women; they can defend themselves. They never fail to put us to flight. One stormy woman could, indeed, rout a whole regiment of such men as ourselves; though we certainly claim to be a valorous champion and defender of the sex. One cold night in the month of December-the recollection is still a sad one-we were walking along Cambridge Terrace, in London, just as the great clock struck nine. Intending to change our lodgings, and, seeing the usual sign-'Apartments to let at the window of a very nice-looking house, we rang at the door; when, horribile dictu! the affrightful lady made her tempestuous appearance. What do you want, sir?' she screamed in a sharp, shrill voice, which no lungs of mortal male, could possibly imitate. "O, madam,' said we, 'we beg your pardon; we want nothing in the wide world; we assure you we want nothing.' 'Suppose you want apartments, sir, come in.' 'Beg your pardon, madam, we want nothing.' Then, before she could utter another word, we made our escape; and that, too, as speedily as possible. Lord Byron was right, when he said, 'I've seen your stormy seas and stormy women, But was not Lord Byron himself a stormy man, and, as such, justly doomed to encounter stormy women, or 'whirlwinds in petticoats'? Some women, it is true, are failures, as well as some men. But we mean to pass by all the failures, in this article; just as we passed by the screaming hag in Cambridge Terrace. It may be true, also, that the women-failures are worse than the menfailures; for it is a law of nature, that the best things make the worst corruptions. The celebrated saying of Erasmus, Homo homini aut deus aut lupus, man is to man either a god or a wolf, has, we sorrowfully admit, its parallel, or its analogy, in the better half of creation. But our topic is woman, and not wolves. Hence, with the poet, we can truly say to her: 'Were mine the spell To call Fate's joys or blunt his dart, 'For thou art woman-with that word In the green bower of home. 'What is man's love? His vows are broke, Cling closest in the storm.' Is woman, then, superior to man? This question has, from time to time, been much discussed, and warmly discussed, too; especially by women. After 'the revival of letters,' says Miss More, 'the controversy about the equality of the sexes, was agitated with greater warmth than wisdom. The process was instituted and carried on, on the part of the female complainant, with that sort of acrimony which always raises a suspicion of the justice of any cause.' No wonder this war of words was carried on with such acrimony; for, as Miss More says, it was waged then, as it is in our own day, by women vain of their wit. The beauties took no part in the contest. 'There is,' says Miss More, 'a singular difference between a woman vain of her wit, and a woman vain of her beauty. The beauty, though anxiously alive to her own fame, is indifferent enough about the beauty of other women. Provided she is sure of your admiration, she does not insist on your thinking that there is another handsome woman in the world. The wit, more liberal at least in her vanity, is jealous for the honor of her whole sex, |