borhood of our sun, and within the sphere of our observation, in 1835. As that time approached, the computation of its orbit was made with great care and labor by a number of very eminent mathematicians, and every perturbing force that might affect it was taken into account. The result established the triumph of science, and showed how firmly and successfully the human intellect has grappled with the great problem of the path of comets in space. Rosenberger fixed on the 11th of November, 1835, as the time of its perihelion; and the comet having been first seen at Rome on the 6th of August, advanced rapidly towards the sun, and made its perihelion passage on the 15th of November, only four days after the calculated time. This was indeed wonderful accuracy, in tracing the path and computing the period of a body that recedes into space the amazing distance of 3,370,300,000 miles, which in that long journey passes within the range of so many perturbing forces, and which travels at degrees of speed so gradually and so greatly varying. It bears magnificent testimony to the power and grasp of the intellect of man. Yet, let none be proud because of what they have received. The thought that the unknown is vastly, boundlessly more than the known, should keep the wisest, and most learned, and most vigorous-minded, humble. And let the noble achievements of human intellect testify to man, that he is made for something better than grovelling among the sensualities of the world; for something better even than the study of the material forms of the universe, and the laws by which they are governed; that he will find his highest and ultimate occupation in the knowledge of the Creator and Lawgiver himself, and his highest and only happiness in the enjoyment of that Creator and Lawgiver as the God of grace and redemption--a covenant God in Jesus Christ-the Saviour and portion of the immortal spirit. Astronomers, put into the right tract by the computations and prediction of Halley, and by the verification of that prediction, were not long in pointing out other comets with a periodic time. In 1819, Professor Encke, of Berlin, detected the periodicity of the comet which now goes by his name, and showed that it had a period of about three years and a-quarter. Many opportunities, owing to the short period of this comet, have been afforded for varied and accurate observation, and for calculating its elements with the nicest care. Encke himself bestowed amazing labor on the investigation, and he was led to the astounding and singular conclusion, that the orbit of the comet is gradually diminishing, and that ere long it must fall into the sun. Encke's comet presents the appearance of a round nebulous body, with a bright nuclear condensation, and it is destitute of a tail. It can be seen, when most favorably situated, by the naked eye, as a star of the fifth or sixth magnitude. In 1826, the periodicity of the fine comet called Biela's comet was discovered. This comet presents the appearance of a small round nebulous body, with a feeble condensation towards the centre, and without any tail. Its periodical time has been ascertained to be about 6 years, or more accurately 6.617 years. We find in Mr. Hind's work on Comets an interesting account of a very remarkable change observed to take place in this comet during its visit to the region of our system, in the end of 1848 and beginning of 1849. That change consisted in an actual separation into two distinct nebulosities, which travelled in company for more than three months. The apparent distance between them was, at first, little more than two minutes, but subsequently it increased to about fourteen minutes. We can not even mention the other comets whose periodicity has been recently detected. In some it ranges from five to eight years; in others, if we may credit the calculations, it ranges from 3,000 to upwards of 100,000 years! In connection with these ascertained periodic times, and these bewildering periods and distances, the question suggests itself, Do all comets move in an elliptical orbitfrom some far turning-point in space directing their course towards the sun with motion gradually accelerated, till, on their burning path, they rush past and round him, and recede away a journey of many, many years, to the immensely distant point whence they must begin again their journey towards him? or do these travellers in space pass away into the depths of the universe till they come within the sphere of the attraction of some other sun as glorious and powerful, or more so, than ours, round which they sweep with lightning speed, and fly off to seek yet another, and from that other yet another, of the great central suns of God's stupendous universe, forming thus a connecting link between the systems of which that universe is composed ? Comets may have their motion accelerated or retarded, and even their orbits changed, by coming within the influence of the planets or other bodies which they may approach in space. Halley's comet in 1835 had its perihelion passage accelerated by the Earth 15 days, by Venus about 5 days, and by Mercury and Mars together about one day. The perihelion passage of Biela's comet in 1832 was shortened, or its motion accelerated 10.023 days by the united action of the Earth, Jupiter, and Saturn. And Encke's comet, according to the calculations of that philosopher, underwent a retardation of more than nine days, from the influence of the planet Jupiter. It has been thought, also, that comets undergo retardation by the resistance of the medium through which they move, though by many the doctrine of a resisting medium is strongly doubted or denied. But the most extraordinary change produced by planetary perturbations occurs in regard to the comet of 1770, usually called Lexell's comet. As far as could be judged, that comet had never been observed before. Yet Lexell proved, that in the orbit in which it was then moving, it had a periodic time of about five years and seven months. In his investigations, he found that this comet had approached very near to the planet Jupiter in May, 1767; so near, that the influence of Jupiter on the comet must have drawn it aside from the orbit in which it was moving into an entirely new orbit; and this had brought it so near us as to enable us to see it for the first time. As it had such a short period, its return was watched for in 1776, but it escaped observation, probably owing to its position in regard to the sun. It has never been seen again, but its disappearance has been accounted for. Lexell found that the comet, in its aphelion passage, about August, 1779, was so near Jupiter, that the mass of that planet exercised a power on the comet 225 times greater than that of the sun upon it, and must, therefore, have again drawn it quite out of the orbit in which it was moving in 1770. And subsequent investigations have shown that the action of Jupiter would so affect this comet, that when it escaped from the sphere of the activity of the planet in October, 1779, it was moving in an ellipse, with a revolution of rather more than 16 years, and a perihelion of 3 times the semi-diameter of the earth's | orbit; and at such a distance there would be no hope of our ever seeing it again. The perturbing force of the planet Jupiter thus seems to have brought this planet within our view by its influence on it in 1767, and again to have withdrawn it from our view by its influence on it in in 1779. Of all the comets that have been calculated, that of 1729 had the greatest perihelion distance-namely, 4.04; and the remarkable comet of 1843 the least, being only 0.0055; the great comet of 1680 had a perihelion distance of 0.0062. Sir Isaac Newton calculated that, from its nearness to the sun, the comet of 1680 must have acquired a heat 2,000 times greater than that of red-hot iron. The heat communicated to the comet, however, would depend not merely on its proximity to the sun, but also on the materials of which it was composed. But we probably conceive ourselves quite as much interested in the nearness to which comets approach our earth, as in the nearness to which they approach the sun. And indeed a very slight knowledge of the motions of the earth and of comets suffices to show, not only that they may approach very near to one another, but even that they may actually come in contact. It is certain that several comets have crossed the plane of the ecliptic almost in our earth's path; among these, the comets of 1680, 1770, and 1832. There was great alarm in some quarters regarding the comet of 1832, from its being discovered and announced, that on the 29th of October that year it would pass a little within the earth's orbit; and hence by those unacquainted with the subject, it was supposed that a collision would take place. But M. Arago showed, that whilst the comet would actually cross the earth's track, the earth would be at the time about 50,000,000 of miles from the point at which the comet was crossing. This same comet in 1805 was only a tenth part of that distance, or 5,000,000 of miles from the earth. The nearest approach made by any comet to the earth, is believed to have been made by the comet of 1770, which came within 1,438,000 miles of us. No sensible effect has been produced on any part of the solar system by the numerous comets that have swept through it. The cometary bodies have been affected by their approach to the planets; but neither the planets nor their satellites have been affected by the neighborhood of comets. This is probably owing to the extreme rarity of the nebulous matter of which comets are composed. It is so very thin, that small stars have been seen through the centre of the heads of comets, without being in the slightest degree obscured. There is, therefore, very little matter in comets, and hence their approach to the earth does not produce any sensible effect on it. Were they of larger mass, and so to influence the earth or any of the planets by coming near them, the effect would be to accelerate or retard their motions in their orbits: for instance, to make our year a few days longer or shorter. It is doubtful if any seriously disastrous result would follow, were the earth and a comet to come even into contact. And it seems probable that the tail of a comet (the great comet of 1843) actually swept over the earth, with what sensible or injurious effect many of us can perhaps tell. To show the extreme rarity of the matter of which comets are composed, we quote the following statements of Sir John Herschel regarding Biela's comet in 1832" It passed," he says, over a small cluster of most minute stars of the sixteenth and seventeenth magnitude, and when on the cluster presented the appearance of a nebula resolvable, and partly resolved, the stars of the cluster being visible through the comet. A more striking proof could not have been of fered of the extreme translucency of the matter of which the comet consists. The most trifling fog would have effaced this group of stars, yet they continued visible through a thickness of cometic matter, which, calculating on its distance, and its apparent diameter, must have exceeded 50,000 miles, at least towards its central parts." 66 Olbers," says Mr. Mitchell," who studied the subject with great care, was disposed to think, that in case the earth had passed directly through the comet, no inconvenience would have occurred, and no change beyond a slight influence on the climate would have been experienced." Indeed, the exceeding variety and translucency of the nebulous matter of which comets are composed, taken in connection with the vast distance at which it is visible, lead us to believe that it is something of which we have no likeness on the earth. Small stars are not at all obscured when covered by that nebulous matter in such immense masses-and | sometimes appearing brighter when seen through it!-we inquire with wonder what it can be, but we nowhere receive an answer. The expected great comet must have from us a brief notice before we close this paper. A very remarkable comet made its appearance in 1264, and another in 1556. Dr. Halley calculated the orbits of these two comets with a number of others. Fifty years after the time of Dr. Halley, the elements of the comet of 1264 were re-calculated by Mr. Dunthorne, and such resemblances observed between the results and and those which Halley had given for the comet of 1556, as to lead to a suspicion of their identity. About twenty years after this, M. Pingrè, by his calculations, strongly confirmed this suspicion, and predicted the return of that great comet in 1848, thus assigning it a period of 292 years. Between 1843 and 1847, Mr. Hind carefully went over all the calculations, and having rectified some errors, he concurred in thinking that the comets of 1264 and 1556 were identical. Mr. Bomme, of Middleburg, repeated the calculations regarding the comet of 1556, making the proper allowance for the perturbations of Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune, and partially for those of the Earth, Venus, and Mars. In the first instance, Bomme used the elements of Dr. Halley, according to which he found that this great expected comet will come to its perihelion in August, 1860. Subsequently, Bomme used the elements of Mr. Hind, and according to these, the great comet of 1556 should return, and reach its perihelion, in August, 1858. M. Hind, therefore, thinks that August, 1858, will be within two years either way, of the perihelion passage, so that the great comet of 1264 and 1556 may be looked for in these parts of space some time between 1856 and 1860; and he is of opinion that our present means of knowledge do not admit of a nearer approximation. Many an intelligent mind will welcome with delight that mighty wanderer come back again, and will see in its return illustrious evidence of the power of God, and of his goodness to his creature man. With respect to the purposes that comets serve in the economy of the universe, little or nothing is known. We find Newton saying, "I suspect that the spirit which makes the finest, subtlest, and best part of our own air, and which is absolutely requisite for the life and being of all things, comes principally from the comets." And Mrs. Sommerville remarks, that "it has often been imagined parent complexion, whose charming blushes each moment protested against the immobility of her bearing, auburn hair whose rich and silken curls admirably harmonized with the serenity of her features, a graceful and flexible form just expanding into womanhood; such was Ellen Müller. I WAS at Vienna a few years ago. After brow, eyes of inexpressible softness, lips hatrying several tables-d'hôte, I established my-bitually closed with maidenly reserve, a transself at a hotel in the Judenstrasse, frequented by a select society. Mr. Müller, master of this establishment, did its honors with thorough German gravity. Perfect order, extreme and conscientious cleanliness, reigned throughout the house. One might pass through the servants' room, and even through the kitchens, without meeting with any thing by which the sight was in the least offended. The cellar was as well arranged as a book case, and the regulations of the house, as regarded both the service and the hours of meals, were as punctually observed as they could have been in a seminary. If a guest came in late, though it were but ten minutes, he was served apart, in an adjoining room, that the comfort of all might not be sacrificed to the convenience of one. In the conversation at this table-d'hôte there prevailed a tone of good society which excluded neither ease nor pleasantry; but a caustic or indelicate expression would have jarred on the ear like a false note in a wellexecuted concert. The countenance of Mrs. Müller, in which dignity was blended with benevolence, was the barometer by which the young men regulated themselves when the influence of Rhine wine or Stettin beer might lead them a little too far. Then Mrs. Müller assumed an air of reserve; by a few words she adroitly broke off the conversation, and turned it into another channel; and she glanced gravely at her daughter, who, with out affectation or pouting, kept her eyes fixed on her plate until the end of the meal. Ellen Müller was the type of those beautiful German faces which the French call cold, because they know not how to read them; she was a happy mixture of the Saxon and Hanoverian characters. A pure and open A councillor of the Court, Hofrath Baron von Noth, who had resigned his functions in consequence of an injustice that had been done him, several students, whose parents had recommended them to the vigilance of Mr. Müller, and a few merchants, composed the majority of the habitual guests. The party was frequently increased by travellers, literary men, and artists. After dinner, philosophy, politics, or literature, were the usual topics of conversation, in which Mr. Müller, a man of extensive acquirements and great good sense, took part, with a choice of expressions and an elevation of views that would have astonished me in a man of his station in any country but Germany. Sometimes Ellen would sit down to the piano, and sing some of those simple and beautiful melodies in which the tenderness, the gravity, and the piety of the German national character seem to mingle. Then conversation ceased; every countenance expressed profound attention; and each listener, as if he were assisting at a religious service, translated the accents of that universal language according to his sympathies, his associations, and the habitual direction of his ideas. I was not long in perceiving that Baron von Noth and a young student named Werter were particularly sensible to Ellen's charms and merit. In the baron, a middle-aged man, there was a mixture of dignity and eagerness which betrayed an almost constant struggle | between pride and the energy of a strong passion. It is between the ages of thirty and forty that the passions have most empire over At that period of life the character is completely formed; and as we well know what we desire, so do we strive to attain our end with all the energy of a perfect organization. us. One night, that we were assembled in the drawing-room, one of the habitual visitors to the house presented to us a Jew, who had just arrived from Lemberg, and whom business was to detain for some months at Vienna. In a few words, Mr. Müller made the stranger acquainted with the rules and the customs of the house. The Jew replied by monosyllables, as if he disdained to expend more words and intelligence upon details so entirely maIterial. He bowed politely to the ladies, glanced smilingly at the furniture of the room, round which he twice walked, as if in token of taking possession, and then installed himself in an arm-chair. This pantomime might have been translated thus: "Here I am; look at me once for all, and then heed me no more." Mr. Malthus-that was the Jew's name had a decided limp in his gait; he was a man of the middle height, and of a decent bearing; his hair was neglected; but a phrenologist would have read a world of things in the magnificent development of his forehead. Werter was little more than nineteen years old. He was tall, fair, and melancholy. am persuaded that love had revealed itself to the young student by the intermediation of the musical sense. I had more than once watched him when Ellen sang. A sort of fever agitated him; he isolated himself in a corner of the room, and there, in a mute ecstacy, the poor boy inhaled the poison of love. The pretensions of Ellen's two admirers manifested themselves by attentions of very different kinds, and in which were displayed their different natures. The baron brought Mrs. Müller tickets for concerts and theatres. Often at the dessert, he would send for delicious Hungarian wine, in which he drank the health of the ladies, slightly inclining his head to Ellen, as if he would have said-I bow to you alone. Werter would stealthily place upon the piano a new ballad, or a volume of poetry; and when the young girl took it up, his face flushed and brightened as if the blood were about to burst from it. Ellen smiled modestly at the baron, or gracefully thanked the student; but she seemed not to suspect that which neither of them dared to tell her. An attentive observer of all that passed, I did my utmost to read Ellen's heart, and to decide as to the future chances of the baron's or the student's love. She was passionately fond of narratives of adventure, and, thanks to the wandering life I had led, I was able to gratify this taste. I noticed that traits of generosity and noble devotion produced an extraordinary effect upon her. Her eyes sparkled as though she would fain have distinguished, through time and space, the hero of a noble action; then tears moistened her beautiful lashes, as reflection recalled her to the realities of life. I understood that neither the baron nor Werter was the man to win her heart; they were neither of them equal to her. Had I been ten years younger, I think I should have been vain enough to enter the lists. But another person, whom none would at first have taken for a man capable of feeling and inspiring a strong passion, was destined to carry off the prize. The conversation became general. Mr. Malthus spoke little, but as soon as he opened his mouth everybody was silent. This apparent deference proceeded perhaps as much from a desire to discover his weak points as from politeness towards the new-comer. The Jew had one of those penetrating and sonorous voices whose tones seem to reach the very soul, and which impart to words inflexions not less varied than the forms of thought. He summed up the discussion logically and lucidly; but it was easy to see that, out of consideration for his interlocutors, he abstained from putting forth his whole strength. The conversation was intentionally led to religious prejudices: at the first words spoken on this subject, the Jew's countenance assumed a sublime expression. He rose at once to the most elevated considerations: it was easy to see that his imagination found itself in a familiar sphere. He wound up with so pathetic and powerful a peroration, that Ellen, yielding to a sympathetic impulse, made an abrupt movement towards him. Their two souls had net, and were destined mutually to complete each other. I said to myself, that Jew will be Ellen's husband. Then I applied myself to observe him more attentively. When Mr. Malthus was not strongly moved and animated, he was but an ordinary man; nevertheless, by the expression of his eyes, which seemed to look within himself, one could discern that he was inter |