weaker. In that case, might becomes right, and selfishness law; society has no bond, and imposes no mutual obligations; and the whole community naturally and necessarily divides itself into the two great classes of the preying and the preyed upon. If the infidel's creed be true, there is then no foundation on which a republic can be built. So France found by sad experiment; for never, since the world was, were human rights so outrageously violated, liberty so utterly subverted, man so trampled upon by man, as in the French republic under the auspices of atheism. Those God-defying, self-styled democrats, Danton, Marat, Robespierre, and their colleagues in sin, so far transcended the tyranny and cruelty of earlier times, that, placed at their side in judgment, the most relentless despots of the old world might appear with clean hands and honest and generous hearts. And thus was France tossed in the whirlpool of democratic tyranny, till she deemed herself only too happy to exchange her hydra-headed despot for the sole caprice and unbounded power of a single tyrant. Nor was it till she had recalled her priests, rebuilt her altars, and reëstablished in the general mind a reverence for the objects of religious faith, that she could obtain from a righteous Providence the tempering of autocratic sway by popular representation and constitutional liberty. We would, finally, speak of Christianity as the sole hope of the world in respect to the permanence of modern civilization. It is certain that Egypt, Persia, Greece, and Rome successively attained a very elevated standard of civilization and refinement, but were subsequently overswept by ignorance and barbarism, and left mighty and significant ruins as the only relics of their days of renown. What assurance have we, that the same fate will not follow the civilization of our own times, and that the countries, now the seat of science, art, and literature, may not again be given over to darkness and desolation? Our assurance that this will not be the case is derived from the importance which Christianity attaches to the individual man,—from its extension of equal spiritual rights, privileges, and hopes to all of every class and condition. When a crafty old Roman wished to indicate to the treacherous magistrate of a rival city the best mode of destroying that city, he walked in his garden by a bed of poppies, and struck off the heads of the tallest with his cane; thus intimating, that, could a few of the chief citizens be destroyed, the fall of the city would be placed beyond a doubt. This anecdote illustrates the great point of distinction between ancient and modern civilization. Ancient civilization did not penetrate the mass of the community. It descended not to the cottage, farm, or workshop; but was confined to the abodes of the rich, the halls of science, and the galleries of taste. It shone only on the tallest heads. These, of course, were at once lopped off or hopelessly humbled, in a civil revolution or barbarian inroad; and the civilization, of which they had been the sole representatives, passed away with them. The populace left behind, having never participated in it, could not of course perpetuate it. But modern, Christian civilization is individual in its character. It leavens the whole mass. It permeates every vein and artery of the body politic. It descends through every ramification of the social system. It dwells no less in the cottage than in the palace, no less in the workshop than in the drawing-room. It has for its defence, in every nation, not a chosen host, "fit champions, though few," but a grand national guard, a general militia, in which every name is enrolled, and every poor cottager and daylaborer bears arms for his fireside, his country, and his God. Modern civilization can, then, be extinguished only by exterminating the races of Christendom, or blotting out the light of Christianity. Its star of hope and promise is the still culminating star of Bethlehem. -- ART. VII. Journal of Researches into the Geology and Natural History of the various Countries visited by his Majesty's Ship Beagle, under the Command of Captain Fitzroy, R. N., from 1832 to 1836. By CHARLES DARWIN, M. A., F. R. S., Secretary to the Geological Society. London: Henry Colburn. 1840. 8vo. pp. 629. THE work before us has never been republished in this country. It is the account of a voyage undertaken by a No. 128. VOL. LXI. 16 man of fortune, at the suggestion of the commander of the ship, who offered a part of his own accommodations to any scientific person who might be disposed to accompany the expedition. Mr. Darwin proposed to publish the results of his observation in a more permanent and systematic form, and meantime threw out these light sketches for the entertainment of readers who might be interested in subjects of the kind to a certain extent, but not disposed to go deep into the investigation. It is not a bad example for those who may have similar opportunities. There is a life and freshness in a journal written at the time, which cannot be preserved in more elaborate writing; and though scientific readers might be thankful for something like method and arrangement, common readers hold such order in contempt, only requiring a narrative which shall amuse them. This is more easily said than done; but whoever can succeed in it may do good service occasionally by inspiring in others a taste and enthusiasm similar to his own. It is not without surprise, but with some feeling of relief, hat we find ourselves at Porto Praya in the first page of the work, thus happily escaping the heart-sinking feeling of leaving home, together with sea-sickness, and the other pleasing varieties of a voyage with which travellers are wont to regale their readers. From that place Mr. Darwin passed rapidly to Brazil, where he is most of all impressed with the aspect of the forest; the elegance of the grasses, the beauty of the flowers, the strangeness of the parasitical plants, and the deep glossy green of the foliage fill him with an admiration which words cannot express, and which, therefore, with judicious but uncommon self-denial, he makes no attempt to utter. But to a naturalist the sea presented objects of greater interest than the shore. The surface seemed entirely covered with a discoloring substance resembling bits of chopped hay, with jagged ends, each of which, when minutely examined, was found to consist of from twenty to sixty cylindrical filaments, with rounded extremities, and divided at regular intervals by transverse septa, containing a brownish-green flocculent matter. These confervæ must exist in immense numbers; ships sometimes sail through them for miles together. On the coast of Chili, fifty miles from the shore, they observed a similar discoloration. On examination, the water appeared slightly stained, as if with red dust; with the microscope these points appeared to be animalcula of an oval form, which, the moment they suspended their motion, burst open at the end, sometimes at both ends, thus closing their activity and existence together. The color of the water was like that of a stream flowing through red clay; and these creatures, which thus change the face of the ocean by their numbers, are so small as to be invisible to the naked eye. two. On landing at Rio Janeiro, he was invited by an Englishman, who lived in the interior, to visit him at his estate; and the ride of a hundred miles into the country gave him some opportunity of seeing the face of nature and of man, the latter, as he represents it, being the less attractive of the On arriving at a venda, or inn, the custom was to bow low to the landlord, asking if he could do them the favor to give them something to eat. "Any thing you choose," was the courteous reply; but it was the land of promise rather than performance, and on asking for the choice articles thus at their service, they were sure to be found wanting. When by their own exertions they had secured some fowls, pelting them to death with stones, they were compelled to wait, that every thing might be done in solemn order; and if, overcome with hunger and fatigue, they timidly alluded to the expected meal, the reply was, "It will be ready when it is ready." At the best of these hotels, some inquiry being made of the landlord respecting a whip, which one of the party had lost, the answer was, "How should I know? why did you not take care of it? I suppose the dogs have eaten it." It is very pleasing to one interested in natural history to meet with these varieties of the human animal; and yet it is certain that specimens of the same two-footed beast may be found in Old or New England. However, the author, like a man of the world, does not dwell very seriously on the subject, and we cannot learn that he made any attempt to add the creature to his collection. Mr. Darwin was very much impressed with the beauty of the thin haze, which in warm climates softens the features of the landscape, and blends its colors into harmony. This appearance is familiar to us, but is not seen in the more humid atmosphere of England. He found the Lepidoptera large and brilliantly colored, principally butterflies, the moths, contrary to what the rank vegetation promised, being com paratively few. He mentions the Papilio feronia, a frequenter of the olive groves, as the most remarkable of the number; it is the only one which uses its legs for running, and it also has the power of making a clicking sound, like a toothed wheel passing under a spring catch; of the fact he was certain, though he was unable to discover the mechanism which produced it. The insects which depend on the vegetable world for subsistence are very numerous; the carrion feeders are comparatively few. But the most abundant are the ants, great armies of which probably do the work which elsewhere is attended to by others. On entering a tropical forest, one is astonished at their labors. Beaten paths branch off in every direction, in which trains are seen going forth and returning, with burdens often larger than themselves. Sometimes they emigrate in great force. His attention was one day arrested by a multitude of spiders, cockroaches, and lizards, flying together, in a state little short of distraction, from some pursuing foe. Behind them was a black cloud of ants, which arranged their lines so as to inclose their prey. He placed a small stone in their way, which they might have avoided by going an inch round; but it was not till they had attacked it again and again, and found it impossible to remove it, that they would submit to the humiliation of changing their course in deference to human power. Among the spiders he found a gregarious kind, assembled in large numbers, more amiable than most others of the race, which lay no restraint upon their passion for eating each other, a self-indulgence which destroys much of the comfort of their associations. This species forms its webs round the tops of large bushes, thus forming a tent for the common benefit, in which they dwell, for a wonder, at peace with each other, though Ishmaelites to all the rest of the insect world. The Mr. Darwin shortly after proceeded to Maldonado, and as the Beagle was employed two years in surveying south of the river Plata, he had ample time for examining the neighbouring country. It is not a very alluring description which he gives of the shores of this celebrated stream. country is low and level, with few trees or inclosures to vary the monotony of its surface. The traveller encounters few inhabitants, and those whom he saw, as he describes them, are somewhat in the rear of modern civiliza |