other systems, revolves around a common centre, in orbits
so vast as to defy computation, and a religious sentiment might well
suggest that this centre of the universe is the throne of the Most High.
Here we may fancy the Deity seated in power, and controlling, by his
will, the movements of worlds, directing each to the completion of his
own mysterious and benevolent designs.

It certainly might be dangerous to push our speculations too far, but
there can be no risk in familiarizing men to consider the omnipotence of
God, and to feel their own comparative insignificance. What ideas of
vastness are obtained by a knowledge of the fact that there exist stars
in the firmament which ordinary telescopes show us only as single
bodies, but which, on examination, by using reflectors of a higher
power, are found to be clusters of orbs--clusters of worlds--or clusters
of suns! These, again, are found to be _binary_ stars, or two stars
revolving round each other, while they are thought, at the same time, to
revolve around their central sun, and accompanied by this again,
probably, to revolve round the great common centre of all!

But, in the words of the quaint old song, I must cry "Holla! my fancy,
whither dost thou go?" Before taking leave of the stars altogether,
however, I will add that the French, and I believe all Europe, with the
exception of England, follow the natural order of time, in counting the
seasons. Thus the spring commences with the vernal equinox, and the
autumn with the autumnal. This division of the year leaves nearly the
whole of March as a winter month, June as a spring month, and September
as belonging to the summer. No general division of the seasons can suit
all latitudes; but the equinoxes certainly suggest the only two great
events of the year, that equally affect the entire sphere. Had the old
method of computing time continued, the seasons would gradually have
made the circle of the months, until their order was reversed as they
are now known to be in the northern and southern hemispheres.

Quitting the Academy, which, with its schools of the classical and the
romantic, has tempted me to a higher flight than I could have believed
possible, let us descend to the theatres of Paris. Talma was still
playing last year, when we arrived, and as in the case of repentance, I
put off a visit to the Theatre Francais, with a full determination to
go, because it might be made at any time. In the meanwhile, he fel