ease.

Of these I was acquainted with three, the Magnolia, Meadow-Sage, and Blue-belle. I will not venture to assert how far they are all likely to have achieved any enduring fame by their poetry; but one of them, the Meadow-Sage, will have an additional reason for being remembered, because of her husband's name; since, soon after I saw her, she became the wife of Southey. And she was the patient and kind nurse of him during the sad latter years of his life, when his mind failed him, and he was left so dependent on the care of others. Her maiden name was Caroline Bowles, and the following lines entitled "The Pauper's Death-bed," shew very considerable power, and deep feeling:

"Tread softly-bow the head

In reverent Silence bow:

No passing bell doth toll,

Yet an immortal soul

Is passing now.

Stranger! however great,

With lowly reverence bow,
There's one in that poor shed-
One by that paltry bed-
Greater than thou.

Beneath that beggar's roof

Lo! Death doth keep his state:
Enter-no crowds attend-

Enter-no guards defend
This palace gate.

That pavement damp and cold,
No smiling courtiers tread;

One silent woman stands,
Lifting with meagre hands,
A dying head.

No mingling voices sound-
An infant's wail alone;

A sob suppressed-agen

That short deep gasp, and then

The parting groan.

Oh change!-Oh wondrous change!

Burst are the prison bars:

This moment there so low,
So agonised, and now

Beyond the stars!

Oh Change-stupendous change-
There lies the soulless cloud;
The Sun eternal breaks-

The new immortal wakes

Wakes with his God."

In conclusion I will give you a few lines, written when she was ten years old, by the daughter of a clergyman, who lived near us in Wiltshire. I have other verses of hers which are exceedingly good, though not evincing the same power of thought and description as these which were written much earlier. I think she is still living, but I have never heard that, as she grew up, her poetical talents were further developed. As a child they were most surprising. She is I believe a cousin of Wordsworth's, and really one might almost think she had a portion of his spirit, when she composed, not altogether so unlike what might have been the fruits of his muse, the following lines, of the genuineness of which there is not the least shadow of a doubt:

"On a sound resembling thunder, heard on a cloudless day in summer. It seemed to traverse the whole heavens, and was indescribably grand.”

"Where art thou, thou mysterious sound,

With thy low, deep murmur gathering round,
Slow rolling o'er the bright summer skies,
As their vault in its tranquil beauty lies?
Thou fliest not on the breeze's wing:
No breath doth the rose's perfume bring:
Thou camest not in the thunder cloud :
The heavens no gloomy vapours shroud.
Thou doth not spring from tempest's ire:

No deadly flames of forked fire

Herald thee thro' the firmament.

Whence dost thou come, and wherefore sent

Would I were skilled in mystic lore?

Would I thro' star-lit paths might soar!

Oh! were I not chained to this parent earth,
Sound! I would know thy wondrous birth.
Say, in some bright revolving star,
Are countless myriads waging war?
Art thou the rush of their armies fiying?
Art thou the groans of their millions dying?
Or, still more dread is thy sound-Oh! say-
That of worlds like ours which pass away?
In thee is heard their heavens last roll,
Shriveling away like a parched scroll?
And even now, whilst I hear thy roaring,
Are myriads on myriads of spirits soaring,
Soaring to God ?-or doomed—Ah me!
Unknown and unguessed may thy secrets be!”

LECTURE V.

ON THE STATE AND PROSPECTS

OF

SCIENCE AND LITERATURE IN MONTREAL.

DELIVERED IN THE

LECTURE ROOM OF THE MONTREAL NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY,

AS THE

CONCLUDING LECTURE OF THE WINTER COURSE,

ON TUESDAY EVENING, APRIL 5, 1859.

WHEN God had finished the work of creation, having, as the chief and last portion thereof, made man in his own image, He then blessed Adam and his wife Eve, and said unto them, "Be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth and subdue it;" and again, after the flood, when Noah and his family, the sole survivors, came forth out of the Ark, God spake to them and said, "Be ye fruitful and multiply, and bring forth abundantly in the earth, and multiply therein." The earth was made as the habitation of man; subject to the supreme law of his maker, he was to have it in possession, to occupy and to subdue it. As mankind began to increase and multiply, it was God's purpose that they were to spread themselves over the earth; and the sacred historian, in Genesis, informs us, how this began to be carried into effect: acquainting us after what method the three branches of Noah's posterity did distinctly plant or settle themselves at the first, in

three distinct tracts of the earth.

For that the first settlements were made, not by mere chance or confusedly, but after some regular method, is evident from the sacred history; wherein we are told, first as to the sons of Japhet, the eldest branch of Noah's posterity, that "by these were the isles of the Gentiles divided in their lands; every one after his tongue, after their families, in their nations;" and so also the same is said of the descendants of Shem and of Ham.

In many of the colonies formed by thriving nations, as recorded in ancient history, something of the same order and method seems to have been observed; of which the Phoenicians, who settled in Africa at Carthage and the adjacent parts; and the Greeks, who settled in Sicily and parts of Italy, were marked instances. Whole sections, tribes or families, led by some of their most eminent public men, seem to have gone forth together, carrying with them, as it were, in miniature, the likeness of the parent State, with all its advanced civilization and institutions. In modern times colonies have been established with less system; and have been rather looked upon, simply as a means of easing the parent state of an over-burthened population at home, than with a view to the well being and due organization of the new countries. The consequence has been that the vast majority of those, who thus seek a new home in some distant land, are of one particular class:—those whom poverty or necessity of any kind induces to seek elsewhere a better fortune, than either Providence has given or their own exertions have earned for them in their native country. And thus it is, that, though brought into constant and quick communication with advanced civilization and settled institutions in the older countries, the population of such new settlements are placed at great disadvantage, having to work out for themselves the formation of their own character, and to raise their own institutions, whether religious, political, or scientific. This development of national character and formation of institutions may eventually, where there is some sterling worth in the people, be most successfully achieved; but it cannot but be a work of deep interest to all who have at heart their well-being as a nation, a work that is encompassed with many difficulties, and only to be accomplished by much perseverance and earnest zeal and hopeful patience.