be inclined to each other, are always, of necessity, when taken together, the same in amount: that any regular kind of figure whatever, upon the one side of a right-angled triangle, is equal to the two figures of the same kind upon the two other sides, whatever be the size of the triangle: that the properties of an oval curve are extremely similar to those of a curve, which appears the least like it of any, consisting of two branches of infinite extent, with their backs turned to each other. To trace such unexpected resemblances is, indeed, the object of all philosophy; and experimental science, in particular, is occupied with such investigations, giving us general views, and enabling us to explain the appearances of nature, that is, to show how one appearance is connected with another. But we are now considering only the gratification derived from learning these things.

It is surely a satisfaction, for instance, to know that the same thing, or motion, or whatever it is, which causes the sensation of heat, causes also fluidity, and expands bodies in all directions; that electricity, the light which is seen on the back of a cat when slightly rubbed - on a frosty evening, is the very same matter with the lightning of the clouds;-that plants breathe like ourselves, but differently by day

and by night;-that the air which burns in our lamps enables a balloon to mount, and causes the globules of the dust of plants to rise, float through the air, and continue their race;—in a word, is the immediate cause of vegetation. Nothing can at first view appear less like, or less likely to be caused by the same thing, than the processes of burning and of breathing,-the rust of metals and burning,-an acid and rust, -the influence of a plant on the air it grows in by night, and of an animal on the same air at any time, nay, and of a body burning in that air; and yet all these are the same operation. It is an undeniable fact, that the very same thing which makes the fire burn, makes metals rust, forms acids, and enables plants and animals to breathe; that these operations, so unlike to common eyes, when examined by the light of science, are the same, the rusting of metals, the formation of acids, the burning of inflammable bodies, the breathing of animals, and the growth of plants by night. To know this is a positive gratification. Is it not pleasing to find the same substance in various situations extremely unlike each other;-to meet with fixed air as the produce of burning, of breathing, and of vegetation;-to find that it is the chokedamp of mines, the bad air in the grotto at Naples, the cause of death in neglecting brewers'

of

vats, and of the brisk and acid flavour of Seltzer and other mineral springs? Nothing can be less like than the working of a vast steamengine, of the old construction, and the crawling of a fly upon the window. Yet we find that these two operations are performed by the same means, the weight of the atmosphere, and that a sea-horse climbs the ice-hills by no other power. Can any thing be more strange to contemplate? Is there in all the fairy-tales that ever were fancied, any thing more calculated to arrest the attention and to occupy and to gratify the mind, than this most unexpected resemblance between things so unlike, to the eyes ordinary beholders? What more pleasing occupation than to see uncovered and bared before our eyes, the very instrument and the process by which Nature works? Then we raise our views to the structures of the heavens; and are again gratified with tracing accurate but most unexpected resemblances. Is it not in the highest degree interesting to find, that the power which keeps this earth in its shape, and in its path, wheeling upon its axis and round the sun, extends over all the other worlds that compose the universe, and gives to each its proper place and motion; that this same power keeps the moon in her path round our earth, and our earth in its path round the sun, and

each planet in its path; that the same power causes the tides upon our globe, and the peculiar form of the globe itself; and that, after all, it is the same power which makes a stone fall to the ground? To learn these things, and to reflect upon them, occupies the faculties, fills the mind, and produces certain as well as pure gratification.

But if the knowledge of the doctrines unfolded by science is pleasing, so is the being able to trace the steps by which those doctrines are investigated, and their truth demonstrated: indeed, you cannot be said, in any sense of the word, to have learnt them, or to know them, if you have not so studied them as to perceive how they are proved. Without this you never can expect to remember them long, or to understand them accurately; and that would of itself be reason enough for examining closely the grounds they rest on. But there is the highest gratification of all, in being able to see distinctly those grounds, so as to be satisfied that a belief in the doctrines is well founded. Hence to follow a demonstration of a grand mathematical truth-to perceive how clearly and how inevitably one step succeeds another, and how the whole steps lead to the conclusion-to observe how certainly and unerringly the reasoning goes

on from things perfectly self-evident, and by the smallest addition at each step, every one being as easily taken after the one before as the first step of all was, and yet the result being something not only far from self-evident, but so general and strange, that you can hardly believe it to be true, and are only convinced of it by going over the whole reasoning -this operation of the understanding, to those who so exercise themselves, always affords the highest delight. The contemplation of experimental enquiries, and the examination of reasoning founded upon the facts which our experiments and observations disclose, is another fruitful source of enjoyment, and no other means can be devised for either imprinting the results upon our memory, or enabling us really to enjoy the whole pleasures of science. They who found the study of some branches dry and tedious at the first, have generally become more and more interested as they went on; each difficulty overcome gives an additional relish to the pursuit, and makes us feel, as it were, that we have by our work and labour established a right of property in the subject. Let any man pass an evening in vacant idleness, or even in reading some silly tale, and compare the state of his mind when he goes to sleep, or gets up next morning with its state some other day when he