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make human life delightful. Nothing must stand still: the sea would be a putrid mass if it were not vexed by its tides, which, even with the moon to raise them, would languish in their course, if not whirled round and round those tortuous promontories which are foolishly considered to be the remnants of a ruined world.—Marks, as they undoubtedly are, of many unknown revolutions; the earth probably never was nor ever can be more perfect than it is.—It would have been a tame and tiresome habitation if it had been as smooth as the globes with which we describe our stations on its surface. Its unfathomable and pathless oceans—its vast lakes cast up by volcanic fire, and its tremendous mountains contending with the clouds, are not only sources of the most picturesque and majestic beauties, but lift up the mind to the sublime contemplation of the God who gave them birth.
CHAP-
