pon the exact analogy between the old case and the
new one. The state of the affair is still the same, when my business
is merely that of an observer and a traveller. I know water from earth,
land from sea, and mountains from vallies, because I have had experience
of these objects, and confidently infer that, when certain appearances
present themselves to my organs of sight, I shall find the same results
to all my other senses, as I found when such appearances occurred to me
before.

But the interval that divides the objects which occur upon and under
the earth, and are accessible in all ways to our examination, on the one
hand, and the lights which are suspended over our heads in the heavens
on the other, is of the broadest and most memorable nature. Human
beings, in the infancy of the world, were contented reverently to behold
these in their calmness and beauty, perhaps to worship them, and to
remark the effects that they produced, or seemed to produce, upon man
and the subjects of his industry. But they did not aspire to measure
their dimensions, to enquire into their internal frame, or to explain
the uses, far removed from our sphere of existence, which they might be
intended to serve.

It is however one of the effects of the improvement of our intellect, to
enlarge our curiosity. The daringness of human enterprise is one of
the prime glories of our nature. It is our boast that we undertake
to "measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides." And, when success
crowns the boldness of our aspirations after what vulgar and timorous
prudence had pronounced impossible, it is then chiefly that we are seen
to participate of an essence divine.

What has not man effected by the boldness of his conceptions and the
adventurousness of his spirit? The achievements of human genius have
appeared so incredible, till they were thoroughly examined, and slowly
established their right to general acceptance, that the great heroes of
intellect were universally regarded by their contemporaries as dealers
in magic, and implements of the devil. The inventor of the art of
printing, that glorious instrument for advancing the march of human
improvement, and the discoverer of the more questionable art of making
gunpowder, alike suffered under this imputation. We have rendered the
seas and the winds instruments of our pleasure, "exhausted the old
world, and then discovered a new one," have drawn down lightning from
heaven, and exhibited equal