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THE TRUTH!

BY MRS. ABDY.

I never have fondly and trustfully hung
On the smooth, glosing accents of Flattery's tongue;
I never was won by the aptly-turned phrase
That leads the tired spirit through Sophistry's maze:
I like not half-meanings, perplexing and vain-
The language for me is unvarnished and plain;
Nor care I, if speakers be rough and uncouth,
So long as they fearlessly utter the Truth!

I like not the bards who depict to our view
The objects of life in a rose-coloured hue-
Nor dare on the plain, homely themes to begin
Of poverty, sorrow, oppression, and sin!

The bards that I prize-there are some in these days

Depict to us clearly the world and its ways;
All evils they combat, all sufferings soothe,
By the mighty and luminous power of the Truth!

Friends, earnest, unflinching, and firm have I gained;

The touchstone of Truth they have nobly sustained; The world's brightest honours had lain at their feet Had they sought them amid the smooth ways of

deceit :

The course may be pleasant, the flowers may be fair, But they know that "the trail of the serpent" is there

And pray to the God whom they served from their youth,

To keep them still safe in the path of the Truth!

NOT HERE! NOT HERE!

Not here-not here! where death is ever preying
On all most loved-most beautiful and fair!
Not here-not here! with hell-born Sin arraying
In angel garb of light each phantom snare!
On to that soft, enchanted ground betraying,

From whose charm'd sleep the waking is despair. Not here-not here! beyond the clouds the goal Where thou must seek for rest and fold thy wings, my soul!

Not in this world, whose every shining pleasure
Lures, like an ignis-fatuus, to the mire,
Whose cup is gall-whose wealth, like fairy treasure,
Turns into yellow leaves, and mocks desire;
Where youth and beauty tread pale Fashion's mea-
sure,

In whose embrace, health, innocence expire!
Joy is a meteor, here, whose end is gloom-

True joy is found, alone, beyond the clouds and tomb.

There is no medicine here, to ease thy aching-
No precious balm, to soothe thy deep unrest!
Its bitter waters are not good for slaking
The parching thirst that sears the troubled breast.
Its hopes are false-its ties each hour are breaking,
The frailest, still, the ties that promise best;
But far beyond yon dome of heavenly blue
Can truth alone be found, for Heaven alone is true!

What are to thee the honoured stars that glitter
Upon the high-born breast, in empty pride?
What are its titles all, but toys that litter

The path of life? Can they its sad tears hide?
Ali no! humility's dark robe were fitter
For him to don, who, casting earth aside,

Would merely lift his gaze to those far skies-
To Him alone who wipes all tears from out all eyes.
What is to thee its dazzling path of glory?

The blood of slaughtered millions stains its sod! What can avail to write thy name in story

If it be blotted from the Book of God?
And He hath said-the head alone grown hoary

In righteousness, the foot with meekness shod,
The crown of heavenly glory shall secure :
Thy God hath said it so, and God alone is sure.

There yet is time, poor soul, though widely wander
Thy footsteps from the narrow path and strait.
Open the Book of Life-there read and ponder-
Even at the eleventh hour 'tis not too late;
Crawl from the slough of thy despond, and yonder,
Where shines the light above the wicket-gate,
Knock-and beneath the cross of God's dear Son,
Go, humbly tell thy sins, and say His will be done!
Thou wilt not knock in vain, poor mournful sinner,
O'er the wide waste of waters His white dove

Will bring the olive-branch-thou be the winner,
Go on-go on! be childlike a beginner,
Though all on earth be lost, of heavenly love.

With humble step, and meek eyes rais'd above,
And tread the path that thy Redeemer trod-
The path is over thorns, but thorns that lead to God.
ALBERT TAYLOR.

KATHERINE.

BY MARIA NORRIS.

I.

Dear Katherine! Looking in thine English eyes, Gemmed o'er with mirth, sweet flowers in sunshine glowing,

A thousand gentle fancies to me rise,
Calm as a river in its summer flowing.
Heaven grant those loving eyes may never dim
With sorrow, or the blasting tomb of care;
But while thy life swells on, like holy hymn
At sunset, I would image gathering there,
In future days, blest looks thou know'st not now-
The matron's deep unutterable joy,

When first she teaches infant knees to bow,

The Saviour's prayer, while o'er her senses steal
And murmurs, in the hearing of her boy,
Flushes of bliss which only mothers feel.
March, 1851.

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Centre and sun of many a hope, she knelt-
Ah! draw the curtains round the still bedside!
Such stillness at one's inner life is felt,
Like ice-cold fingers clutching at the heart.

Ah! Katherine, Katherine-would I might recall
The wish whose fruit has brought such bitter smart!
But searching then in fondness, I of all
Chose this one wish-the dearest I could make-
Nor dreamed thy death was in the wish I gave.
Great Heaven! should not the flower, for the bud's

sake,

Have lingered yet, or it have shared her grave? Ah little thought I, when my hand clasped thine, Our farewell echoed in the Mind Divine!

March, 1852.

A FEW WORDS ON GEOLOGY.

BY MARIA NORRIS.

"Sermons in stones, and good in everything."

In approaching this subject, we shall do well to remember that the Scriptures were never intended to be a scientific manual; that they speak of the phenomena of nature in language which, although not scientifically correct, is understood, and received among us without misleading any one; and that in them the Deity has not anticipated any of the remarkable discoveries which perchance He destined as the dowry of our latter ages.

All that can be fairly required of science is, that she should not contradict Scripture. There is a science, " falsely so called," which has unhappily misled many well-meaning persons, and has almost persuaded them that Christianity and Philosophy are often at variance; but let us be certain that all Truth springs from one Origin, and that when we find two truths irreconcileable, the defect is ours; for there is in reality but one Truth, an emanation from Infinite Perfection; and while it is clear that a thing cannot differ from itself, it is a proposition equally simple that perfection does not produce imperfection.

We, who are students in the outer court of the Temple of Nature, may fancy dissonances in the music, as the solemn anthem from within peals upon our ear; we may fancy incongruities as we catch a glimpse now and then of the inner glory by a half-opened door or a raised curtain, but what are our fancies? The thoughts of short-lived mortals, are so far from infallible, that the wisest steps are often those which we would undo and amend. Can we lead forth the army of the stars? Can we marshal the hosts of the planets, bidding each sustain his part in the silent and lovely dance which weaves chains of light around the earth, a dance which with energy yet as fresh as when "the morning stars sang together" on the birthday of creation, has been kept on in unbroken flow for six thousand years?

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Since regularity is the rule of Nature, eccentricity the exception, surely it is but reasonable to conclude, when we meet with insuperable difficulties, and apparent antagonisms, that we see but in a glass, darkly," and need a clearer light ere we successfully investigate the wonderful works of Providence. And since in criticising here, we are dealing with the works of Almighty Power and Benevolence, the greatest modesty ought to characterise our method of expressing our opinions.

So far as a very superficial knowledge of Geology-if indeed that can be called a knowledge which includes only a strong interest and

SHAKSPERE,

a theoretical acquaintance-so far as such a knowledge may give the writer any right to hazard an opinion, she can honestly say that to her own mind certain truths of Scripture have received from geological facts confirmation strong almost as mathematical demonstration. She trusts that the prejudices against Geology are fast dying away; very certain she feels, that far from being at variance with Revelation, this science will be found to interpret the hierogly phics in which Eternal Wisdom has been writing for countless ages on the rocks, a chain of circumstances, a volume of illustrations to the Book of Revelation.

To the thoughtful mind, it does seem that the present age is rich in the discovery of such illus. trations of the Scripture. Infidels had doubted whether Nineveh in reality ever existed, or whe ther, if it existed, the prophet had not exag gerated its size; but Dr. Layard discovers the remains of the city, and finds the measurement of the walls to correspond with the account of Jonah.

So, too, unbelievers, both scoffers and doubters-let not the writer be supposed harshly to judge the latter class-had ridiculed or tried to disprove the Scripture chronology. Someasserted that the world, as it is, existed from eternity; others that the origin of man was far anterior to the period fixed in the Mosaic cosmogony; and such objections were not easily overruled, for fix what point one may, an antagonist can always suppose a preceding race or races. It would seem, indeed, an unanswerable objection; "but," says Professor Hitchcock," although Geology can rarely give chronological dates, but only a succession of events, she is able to say, from the monuments she has deciphered, that man cannot have existed on the globe more than six thousand years."

Nor is this a position assumed without reasons more than plausible.

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"That man," says Hitchcock, was among the very last of the animals created, is made certain by the fact that his remains are found only in the very highest part of alluvium. This is rarely more than one hundred feet in thickness, while the other fossiliferous strata lying beneath the alluvium are six miles thick.

"Hence man was not in existence during all the period in which these six miles of strata were in a course of deposition, and he has existed only during the comparatively short period in which the one hundred feet of alluvium have been formed; nay, during only a small part of the alluvial period. His bones having the same

chemical composition as the bones of other animals, are no more liable to decay; and, therefore, had he lived and died in any of the periods preceding the alluvial, his bones must have been mixed with those of other animals belonging to those periods. But they are not thus found in a single well-authenticated instance, and, therefore, his existence has been limited to the alluvial period. Hence he must have been created and placed upon the globe (such is the testimony of Geology), during the latter part of the alluvial period."

That human remains are capable of fossilization, is proved by the fact that the process is now actually going on in many parts of the world.

"On the coasts of the Antilles," says the learned Humboldt in his Cosmos, "these formations of the present ocean contain articles of pottery, and other objects of human industry; and in Guadaloupe even human skeletons of the Carib tribe." There is a large slab of limestone rock in the British Museum, containing a large portion of a female skeleton-a specimen familiar no doubt to many of our readers; we believe it was dug up at Guadaloupe: in any case a sight of it must convince the most sceptical, that human bones are as capable of being thus preserved as any remains which have been discovered.

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To our mind, the view of the earth as the laboratory of the Deity, in which for thousands years He carried on operations, preparing it gradually for higher and higher developments of organic life, is a sublime and awful retrospect. Were it possible for the panorama of Creation to be unrolled in successive scenes before us, the word Creator would be fraught with ideas of magnitude and power, of foresight and benevolence, infinitely surpassing our present conceptions. We should see how exactly the successive races of creatures were suited to the condition of the earth which prevailed during their life, and how their existence, while it lasted, was one of pleasure and enjoyment.

Incongruous and unsightly in our eyes do many of the fossil creatures appear; but we should perceive, on a study of the subject, that creatures with organizations so delicate as our existing races, could not have lived in the world's then condition. Never, say the geologists, was the world so filled with high forms of organic life as now, and never was it in a state so adapted to their comfort and preservation.

The vast changes which upheaved continents and overturned rocks, are to us unknown. What a destruction of life and beauty would ensue if such convulsive throes now agitated the earth's crust! But the Deity creates to preserve, not to destroy; and in the beautiful language of David, "his tender mercies are over all his works."

And yet if these giant changes had never occurred, how many beauties, how many sources of pleasure and of industry would have been wanting. The romantic undulations of hill and dale, so important to the charms of fine scenery

which have often elevated and chastened our minds, would not have existed. Imagine the earth's surface a dead flat. What monotony ! It would be a constant punishment to creatures so gratified by variety as we are. Not only would our taste have been wounded, but our precious stones and metals would have been sought in vain; their formation probably occurs too low for human labour ever to have reached them, had not a mighty Hand overturned the earth's surface, and piled up in rocky storehouses such treasures as are accessible to the labour of man.

Beauty might have gazed on the dew-drops, and longed to chrystallize their rainbow sparklings, and to deck herself with them as ornaments; but she might have sighed in vain over their short-lived splendour: the tremulous rays of the diamond-that temple of imprisoned light-the rich glow of the ruby, the purple shinings of the amethyst, would not have been hers; nor could she have had those robes fine as tissue, which are woven for her by machinery almost perfect, if these convulsions of former ages had not brought the metals near the surface.

It may be interesting here to state that man's labours have extended to* " a vertical depth of somewhat more than two thousand feet (about one-third of a geographical mile) below the level of the sea, and consequently only about one 19,800th part of the earth's surface." The temperature of the water at the bottom of a deep salt mine at Minden, in Prussia,† "was ninety-one degrees Fahrenheit, which, assuming the mean temperature of the air as forty-nine degrees three minutes, gives an augmentation of temperature of one degree for every fifty-four feet."

How essential are our coal formations to our prosperity as a nation! Whatever our condition might have been, at least we should have been situated widely different but for these treasures of our isles.

Is it not a strange reflection, that the gas which lights our streets, the coals of the household fires about which we gather, are new forms which a gigantic primeval vegetation has assumed. Nearly four hundred species have been detected by the botanical analyst in the coal formations of England and the European continents. Among them are grasses, gigantic palms, and coniferæ; some of the latter exhibiting faint traces of annual rings! Strange register of bygone ages, penned by Time himself, and incapable of falsehood!

How many changing seasons must have breathed through those, green boughs-how many strange and extinct species couched beneneath them, before the mighty metamorphosis was perfected! And how many reverses of human fortunes, both private and national, were

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