tion in a still stronger light, which it is deemed proper to present under the head of Qualities in the vegetal kingdom, which yield them in such great variety and abundance. Roots, stems, wood, leaves, barks, flowers and fruit have their distinctive odors in many cases; any one part in the same plant is unlike those in the other parts.

There is perhaps no subject of which all know so much, and of which every one knows so little, as that of odors. Science throws but a dim and uncertain light upon the question. Physiologists are yet in doubt about the structure and action of the olfactory as distinct from the gustatory nerves. But how odors are diffused and wafted from their source, science is not able to give us much satisfactory light, although we have a vast accumulation of incoherent facts. Some odors are evanescent and very soon exhaust their source. Others again are enduring and fail not, or waste not in time. An instance is given of a grain of musk having lain more than a century in a chest of drawers, in Holland, which shed its perfume for more than a century, and on being weighed, it was found that its exact weight still remained. Similar experiments have been made with assafoetida, some gums and some essential oils, for shorter periods, with like results. As a general rule, animal odors are more persistent than vegetable. Some dried flowers will retain their perfume indefinitely, even after they are so desiccated as to be made into snuff.* Some odors will diffuse themselves far and wide, and seem to fill the air for great distances, while others are only perceived when their source is in actual contact with the nose. When we consider all the facts connected with odors, it seems most probable that their means of diffusion, as well as their action upon the olfactory nerves, are wholly ethereal. If it be so, it is evident that different elements of ether are employed to produce the different sensations. The smell of the polecat will extend a mile or more from its source, and the smallest touch of the fluid upon a garment will remain for months. What other

* Flowers of the Powlonia imperialis is an instance of this kind.

means for its extension and persistence can we conceive, or for its fetid consistence, than ether? Facts connected with this subject might be multiplied indefinitely, all explainable upon this hypothesis, but explainable upon no other. Odors are forces, and like other forces are imponderable and ethereal.

Taste or sapidity is a marked quality of the vegetal kingdom, which, so far as our sense of smelling is concerned, is of as great variety (or perhaps greater) in plants as odors.

But we must close. We have not noticed the differentiations in the forms of plants. That they result from a cause or force capable and adapted, there can be no doubt. Fortuity is neither a cause nor a force. Natural selection is but an infinite succession of accidents. Aristotle's terse remark is worthy of being always kept in mind when we are considering these great subjects, when he says, "All that is in motion. refers us to a mover, and it would be but an infinite adjournment of causes were there not a great Immovable Mover."

THE

AN UP-HILL BUSINESS.

HE Archbishop of Canterbury, some time since, ascribed the stormy weather in England to the omission, on the part of the clergy generally, to read the fair-weather prayers with sufficient fervor and frequency. His Reverence put his ministerial subordinates through a suitable course of theological sprouts, instructing them, in substance, to pray for a dry-time "wherever the circumstances of the district seem to require it." Here and there a shaky minister objected, on the rational ground that the Lord comprehended the situation and the necessities of the district better than the priesthood. In the main, however, the inferior clergy prayed as directed; but, to the best of our knowledge and belief, they did not succeed in making the elements "dry up." There is no use in praying for fair weather while an English fog is more palpable than the faith of the Church. S. B. B.

A HYMN OF THE NIGHT.

BY THOMAS L. HARRIS.

I.

IN the vast Temple of the Night
I stand and muse with calm delight;
Its dome with silver flame is bright,
And drops of odorous, dewy light,

Fall from the urn-like Moon.
The mountains that bear up the skies,
Like shafts of sculptured emerald rise;
From the far North, in radiant guise,
Flame the ethereal Mysteries,

Robed in their crimson bloom.

II.

The leaves, the winds, the waters flow
In blended cadence sweet and slow;
Now in great waves of song they go,
Then fall as dew-drops, faint and low,
Drip from the myrtle bough.
My Spirit wakes in this great hour,
All holy things sweet influence shower,
The inward Sight, and Sense and Power,
Unfoldeth like an opening flower—
I rise transfigured now.

III.

Above me bends a vaster sky,

The storms, their wide wings beating, fly;

Dim shadows o'er the horizon lie;
And the eternal stars on high

Shine through the Night of Time.
All worn and scarred the toilers sleep;
Sad eyes in slumber weep and weep;
Strong Souls their faithful vigils keep
Through the world's Midnight dark and deep,
With Hope and Love sublime.

IV.

The outward Night that round me lies
Must perish. Lo! the Darkness dies;
Sweet voices in the bright'ning skies,
Sweet odors from the earth arise

Where flowers their bloom display.
The Sun-burst with its golden wings
Has woke earth's blessed, beauteous things,
In silver robes the fountain springs,
All Heaven with echoing music rings,
To welcome in the Day!

V.

Thus, waiting hearts, Time's storm-fill'd Night, Where Hate and Love, like gloom and light, Have wrestled long in desperate fight,

Shall end.

Rejoice! The True and Right

To victory onward go.

No more dark Fears the Soul shall rend,
All hearts in Love's blest concord blend,
Bright Seraphs to the Earth descend,
Man dwell with God as friend with friend,
And Heaven fill all below.

WH

CHRISTNA.

THE FIRST AVATAR.

BY FANNY GREEN M'DOUGAL.

HILE a sharp attention to physical wants was necessary, in order to maintain a mere existence, the spiritual powers, finding but small time or space for attention, became comparatively inert. There were, indeed, faint and remote traditions of a period when men had other relations, and other wants; but these were so absorbed in the one essential struggle, that the soul but timidly dared assert itself; and, to all appearance, was as nearly annihilated as was possible for sentient beings.

But when improving conditions left leisure for rest and reflection, and the spontaneous exercise of the intuitive faculties, there was a reäction. The physical man had now attained consolidation and equipoise, with full strength and stature, without any opposing forces; and the time had arrived when the spiritual powers must be quickened; and these suddenly became paramount. With its first waking consciousness, the soul overwhelmed itself with seemingly unanswerable questions. The whole mystery of being, with its inexplicable entrance, and its dark exit, stood ever, an impenetrable cloud, directly in their path, receding as they approached, but still before them, silent, dark and defiant. Whence and why are we? and whither do we go? was the great unanswered cry of the human soul. But the deeper they delved and the more earnestly they sought solution, the darker and more remote appeared the tantalizing truth. There was still a problem. which the most gifted minds could not solve-the presence of this mysterious being in the world, so constituted-so gifted