inconvenience to the sight. This naturally leads children to view her as an object of wonder and delight. And its highly probable that, in most cases, this luminary is the first celestial object that excites in the youthful mind inquiries relating to the visible heavens, and their glorious Maker.

To the eye of the observer, the Moon appears diversified by bright, and dark or dusky parts: but when viewed through a telescope, the sight is at once grand and surprising. Here we clearly observe large and extensive ranges of very high mountains, and their projecting shadows, by which astronomers have attempted to measure their height. And besides these extensvie chains of mountains, we discover valleys, rocks, and plains, in every variety of form and position; and numberless bright and beautiful parts, as if the Sun shone upon rocks of diamond. In other parts are seen extensive tracts, of a dusky or dark aspect, which reflect but little light; as if the Sun shone either upor water or land. But the most singular features of the Moon are those circular ridges which diversify every portion of her surface. A range of mountains of a circular form, rising two or three miles above the level of the adjacent district, surrounds, like mighty ramparts, an extensive plain; and in the middle of this plain or cavity, an insulated conical hill rises to a considerable elevation. Several hundreds of these circular plains most of which are considerably below the level of the surrounding country, may be perceived with a good telescope, on every region of the lunar surface. They are of all dimensions, from two or three miles to forty in diameter.

That there are prodigious inequalities on her surface is proved by looking at her through a telescope, at any other time than when she is in full; for then there is no regular line bounding light and darkness; but the confines of these parts appear, as it were, toothed, and cut with innumerable notches and breaks; and even in the dark part, near the borders of the lucid surface, there are seen some small spaces enlightened by the Sun's beams. Upon the fourth day after the new Moon, and

for several days afterwards, there may be perceived some shining points, like rocks, or small islands within the dark body of the moon; but not far from the confines of light and darkness, there are observed other little spaces, which join to the enlightened surface, but run out into the dark side, and, by degrees, change their figure, till at last they come wholly within the illuminated face, and have no dark parts around them at all. Afterwards (in the space of a few minutes or hours) more shining spaces are observed to arise by degrees, and to appear within the dark side of the Moon; which, before they drew near to the confines of light and darkness, were invisible, being without any light, and totally immersed in the shadow. The contrary is observed in the decreasing phases, where the lucid spaces which joined the illuminated surface by degrees recede from it; and after they are quite separated from the confines of light and darkness remain for some time visible, till at last they also disappear. Now it is impossible that this should be the case, unless these shining points were higher than the rest of the surface, so that the light of the Sun may reach them sooner.

As the Moon has on her surface mountains and valleys, in common with the Earth, some modern astronomers have discovered a still greater similarity, viz. that some are really volcanoes, emitting fire as those on the Earth do.

Different conjectures have been formed concerning the spots on the Moon's surface. Dr. Keill, and the greater part of our present astronomers, are of opinion, that the very bright parts are only the tops of mountains; which, by reason of their elevation, are more capable of reflecting the Sun's light than others, which are lower. The dusky parts, the Doctor says, cannot be seas, nor any thing of a liquid substance; because, when examined by a telescope, they appear to consist of an infinity of caverns and empty pits, whose shadows fall within them, which never can be the case with seas, or any liquid substance; but even within these spots brighter places are observed, which appear to be points of rocks standing within the cavities.

THE WHITE BEAR OF THE POLAR REGIONS.

IN the caves of the rocks, or in the hollows of the ice, dwells the most formidable of arctic quadrupeds, the Greenland or Polar bear. This fierce tyrant of the cliffs and snows of the north, unites the strength of the lion with the untameable fierceness of the hyena. A long shaggy covering of white soft hair, and a copious supply of fat, enables him to defy the winter of this rigorous climate. Under the heat of Britain he suffers the most painful sensations; Pennant saw one, over whom it was necessary, from time to time, to pour large pailfuls of water. Another, kept for some years by professor Jameson, evidently suffered severely from the heat of an Edinburgh summer. The haunt of the bear is on the dreary Arctic shores, or on mountains of ice, sometimes two hundred miles from land; yet he is not, strictly speaking, amphibious. He cannot remain under water above a few moments, and he reaches his maritime stations only by swimming from one icy fragment to another. Mr. Scoresby limits the swimming reach to

three or four miles; yet Parry found one in the centre of Barrow's strait, where it was forty miles across. This bear prowls continually for his prey, which consits chiefly of the smaller cetacea and of seals, which unable to contend with him, shun their fate by keeping strict watch, and plunging into the depths of the wa ters. With the walrus he holds dreadful and doubtful encounters; and that powerful animal, with his enor mous tusks, frequently beats him off with great damage. The whale he dares not attack, but watches anxiously for the huge carcass in a dead state, which affords him a prolonged and delicious feast: he scents it at the distance of miles. All thes sources of supply being precarious, he is sometimes left for weeks without food, and the fury of his hunger then becomes tremendous. At such periods, man, viewed by him always as his prey, is attacked with peculiar fierceness.

The annals of the north are filled with accounts of the most perilous and fatal conflicts of the Polar bear. The first, and one of the most tragical, was sustained by Barentz and Heemskerke, in 1596, during their voyage for the discovery of the north-east passage. Having anchored at an island near the strait of Waygatz, two of the sailors landed, and were walking on shore, when one of them felt himself closely hugged from behind. Thinking this a frolic of one of his companions, he called out in a corresponding tone "Who's there? pray stand off." His comrade looked, and screamed out, "A bear! a bear!" then running to the ship, alarmed the crew with loud cries. The sailors ran to the spot, armed with pikes and muskets. On their approach, the bear very coolly quitted the mangled corpse, sprang upon another sailor, carried him off, and, plunging his teeth into his body, began drinking his blood at long draughts. Hereupon the whale of that stout crew, struck with terror, turned their backs, and fled precipitately to the ship. On arriving there, they began to look at each other, unable to feel much satisfaction with their own prowess. Three then stood forth, undertaking to avenge the fate of their countrymen, and to secure for them the rites of

burial. They advanced, and fired at first from so respectful a distance that they all missed. The purser then courageously proceeded in front of his companions, and, taking a close aim, pierced the monster's skull immediately below the eye. The bear however, merely lifted his head, and advanced upon them, holding still in his mouth the victim whom he was devouring: but seeing him soon stagger, the three rushed on with sabre and bayonet, and soon despatched him. They collected and bestowed decent sepulture on the mangled limbs of their comrades, while the skin of the animal, thirteen feet long, became the prize of the sailor who had fired the successful shot.

The history of the whale-fishers records a number of remarkable escapes from the bear. A Dutch captain Jonge Kees, in 1668, undertook, with two canoes, to attack one, and with a lance gave him so dreadful a wound that his immediate death seemed to them inevitable. Anxious, therefore, not to injure the skin, Kees merely followed the animal close, till he should drop down dead. The bear, however having climbed a little rock, made a spring from the distance of twenty four feet upon the captain, who, taken completely by surprise, lost hold of the lance, and fell beneath the assailant, who, placing both paws on his breast, opened two rows of tremendous teeth, and paused for a moment, as if to show him all the horror of his situation. At this critical instant, a sailor, rushing forward with. only a scoop, succeeded in alarming the monster, who made off, leaving the captain without the slightest injury.

In 1788, captain Cook of the Archangel, when near the coast of Spitzbergen, found himself suddenly between the paws of a bear. He instantly called on the surgeon, who accompanied him, to fire, which the latter did with such admirable promptitude and precision, that he shot the beast through the head, and delivered the captain. Mr. Hawkins of the Everthorpe, in July, 1818, having pursued and twice struck a large bear, had raised his lance for a third blow, when the animal sprang forward, seized him by the thigh, and threw