Nor is HOBBS' LOCK anything new. It is but the model of an Egyptian lock, thousands of years old. MESMERISM is no modern idea; it is older than the New Testament. HYDROPATHY was a science centuries upon centuries since. Whether it was practiced any more successfully then than now, I cannot say. It doubtless had its disciples and its opponents, as in our own day. Charles Lamb once expressed his hostility to it by saying that the deluge killed many more than it cured; but the hydropathist's reply was, that "all were saved who were worth saving."

I had supposed that modern times might claim the invention of the LOOM, but on investigation, have come to the conclusion that I was mistaken. There are ancient pictures extant of the loom; and there is still to be seen ancient muslin, called the Ducra muslin, finer than any of our own day. Juvenal, the ancient Hudibras, says that the women of his day dressed in garments woven by the wind." Our muslin is called fine which has but one hundred and fifty threads to the square inch; while the muslin in which the Egyptian mummies are enveloped has five hundred threads to the square inch; and many of the colors of the ancient cloths are believed to be the same recently discovered by the French.

But I would not wish to leave the impression that we are in no respect in advance of the ancients. We may not know more, but we use what we do know differently. What was known of science and the arts by the ancients, was used by the rulers and the priesthood to deceive and hold in subjection the masses. When these classes were themselves overthrown, the Arts were overthrown and trodden out with them.

There can now be seen in Rome bricks bearing the stamp of their maker's name, four thousand years ago. That stamp was but the modern stereotype plate; but this stereotype plate is used for other purposes than to stamp the name of the manufacturer on brick. It gives immortality to ideas. It prints the book, which renders it impossible that the knowledge of the present day, like that of the past, should go out with the men who, to-day, possess that knowledge.

It is in the use of Science that we excel the ancients; in the practical exemplification of the doctrine that no man has a right to know anything which he is not willing to make useful. It is this which pre-eminently distinguishes us from the ancients; and it is this, and the recognition of the rights of the great brotherhood of man, which, under God, is to elevate us, in the eyes of future generations, far above those whose "Lost Arts" are the subject of our wonder.

TOO TRUE. The most gentle authority will sometimes frown without reason, and the most cheerful submission will sometimes murmur without cause; and such is the law of our imperfect nature, that we must either command or obey.

Genius will Study.

Were it possible to stay the meteor in its course, could the power of man grasp the distant spheres and hurl them from their circling orbs, might he but bind the waves of ocean, or hush the fury of the hurricane, then might he hope to fetter the genius-endowed spirit. Intelligence, wherever it is found, exerts a wide and god-like influence; its power peoples the air with living forms, and the wide-spread earth glories in the rich offerings bequeathed it from the mind's storehouse. The mind, conscious of its own nobility, rises superior to all circumstances, and revels, delighted, amid its air woven visions. The most common mind has an impress of Deity which exalts it to a station but little lower than the angels. What shall we say, then, of those to whom genius hath lent its seraph fires, whose spirits, for aught we know, may have been endowed with the same pure principle which forms the essence of the glowing stars, and whose harp of a thousand strings is tuned by an unseen hand, in sweetest harmony with nature's symphony? Whether it speaks in the glowing language of poesy, entwining round its sentiments all the sweet witchery of song, or whether it breathe forth the wild thunders of forensic eloquence, still does it impress the minds of others with a sense of its superiority.

But what is genius? None can define it. No charm, no amulet, hath yet been found by which we may unfold its hidden meaning. One has said, "If there is anything which we may call genius, it is the power which some possess, of fixing the attention upon some particular object until the mind has had time to survey it on all sides, to discern all its latent beauties, or reveal its hidden deformities." But this, we think, would be bringing genius down to a standard far inferior to its many and varied characterestics.

If it depends on the habit of concentration of thought, would not many, whose intellects are even below mediocrity, be entitled to a rank among the gifted of earth, and would not many to whom the meed of fame has been cheerfully awarded, be obliged to lay aside their hard earned laurels? We find many whose thoughts seem to flow always in one channel, but do we place them on an equal with those whose minds seem to grasp all objects which come under their observation, whose spirits seem to traverse the universe of thought, and with the sceptre of reason, explore every avenue, solve each doubt, and reveal each undeciphered symbol. Surely not, though none may tell what genius is, yet we may become so conversant with its attributes as readily to distinguish the truly great. These attributes are exceedingly diversified, and the effect, they each produce when called into requisition, is like spirits

distilled from flowers, it always reminds us of its origin. In some its effect is like volatile essence, sweet as powerful; in others it resembles the otto of roses, rich and concentrated. But one of the most glorious attributes which adorns the gifted intellect, is the power of deriving instruction, and the choicest lessons of wisdom, from every circumstance and every object that may surround it. It is indeed one of its chief characterestics, and the distinguishing feature between the man of genius and the common intellect. How plainly is this illustrated among those who have placed themselves as worshipers at the shrine of learning. Some seem to think the only key to knowledge is through books, and with these they plod on, never stopping to look about, never asking why this was done, or how that was discovered, or whether it is right, but taking all for granted, they content themselves, by becoming the passive recipient of others' thoughts, without one original idea, and pass from study to study with almost the same rapidity that the bee flits from flower to flower, but with not half the success. With no stability of character, which is the only sure foundation of a good education, they content themselves with the name of having studied, and pass through the halcyon. days of school life, and go forth upon the stage of action not to show the world how much they have learned, but how much they have not learned. But there is another class who, endowed with a love of originality, choose to mark out their own course for improvevement, rather than follow the beaten track of others, judging it would prove as fruitless to look for pearls in the great thoroughfare, as for diamonds in a stream whose channel has been plowed by the keels of a thousand adventurous barks. To such the dull monotony of the plodder is extremely irksome. They prefer, not only to cherish the thoughts of others, but turn at times to look into the mirror of their own souls, to see what images are there reflected, and to kindle the electric spark of inspiration within their own breasts. Here are the realms in which they delight most to dwell, and should they occasionally leave it to enter into the thoughts and sentiments of others, it is that they may gather more pearls to enrich the casket within. Yet, as order and regularity are not incompatable with the spirit of genius, so the absence of those qualities may not always argue the want of it. The truly gifted may seem to others the very subjects of misrule and discord, while at the same time the elements of thought, like volcanic fire, may be at work within. Beneath the abstracted mein, and the strange, pensive eye of the dreamer, may be planted the germ which shall expand, slowly but surely, until its power, reaching through coming ages, shall startle the world with its mighty results.

In this age, the spirit of utilitarianism has so many devoted followers, that it seems almost an anomaly to find one who dares throw off the fetters custom would bind around him, to lay aside the tools of the la

borer, and, rising in the might of an independent soul, glorying in its greatness, to draw from their own minds, and "nature's everlasting simile," the rich draughts of intellectual enjoyment.

The opinion seems prevalent among a certain class, that no one can be industrious, unless he constantly employs the use of visible agencies; as the mechanic cannot work without his tools, so, they think, the student can accomplish nothing without his books. But genius will not always be chained to a book. It chooses rather to receive the refreshing draughts of knowledge from the fountain head-from nature itself. "Genius will study." Wherever it may be found, whether in the barren wastes of Lybia or the luxuriant plains of Oriental climes, it is ever seeking after new images. Yet it is not from the printed page it would learn to soar, nor from the written sentiments of sages; but it goes forth into the boundless air, and expatiates in a world of life and light. The tiny flower which blossoms in the way receives the tears of heaven, and bears a lesson on its velvet leaves more eloquent to him than all the pomp of high sounding words. To the child of genius, every leaf has a tongue, and the quick winds and sighing zephyrs awake harp-like melodies. The singing stream, and gurgling fountain, awake in his soul visions of peace and love. The very oaks teach him reverence and dignity, and he looks upon the enameled plain above as on a lettered world, and in the pure light of the glowing stars, reads the perfection and glory of divinity. His sanctuary is the forest, with the concave skies its roof, and its drapery the hanging boughs; there his soul is free as the mountain air, and if asked what there he sought, like the German sage, he could reply, "I am hunting after images." Man, know thyself, is an echo that comes like a voice from the past; but we may not acquire this knowledge unless we live much within ourselves. Then let none heap upon the favorite of genius the opprobrium of an idler, if, perchance, he may lay aside the instruments of art, or return the book to its silent home, and go forth to read the mysteries of the universe; but let them remember that, like the electric fluid, it produces the most startling results, when indulging in its wildest freaks.

The Charity of Odd-Fellowship.

The charity of Odd-Fellowship begins at home, but it does not operate there only. The Gospel designed for the whole world, began with its Founder, was extended to his disciples, spread to the Jews, and only after it had been preached for several years at Jerusalem, was Paul made an Apostle, and sent to preach its "unsearchable riches" to the Gentiles. So with every work of benevolence, every enterprise for the general good. It must have a beginning, then an enlarged theater in its progress, before it can fill the bounds of its consummation.

Odd-Fellowship-Its Benefits.

Institutions, like men, must be judged by their fruits. It is only by the recognition of this principle, that we are able to form an accurate opinion, and put a just estimate upon men and things. God judges actions by their motives; we can only infer their nature and quality from the exhibition before us.

"By their fruits ye shall know them," is the language of one whose omniscience scanned all motives, and whose infallible judgment weighed in the scales of a righteous decision, all acts.

It is not the name of an institution, or the emblems, however beautiful or significant, which illustrate its principles, that give character to it, but the living embodiment of those principles, as manifested in corresponding action. What were the pompous emblazonry that surrounded the name of that great conqueror, so far as true greatness was concerned, if that name were associated with deeds of horror and darkness? What were the splendid columns and chapiters, and gorgeous dome, and wide-spread fame of that magnificent temple, if the smoking incense of its altar were the tears and groans of humanity? And what were the boasting professions of Friendship and Love, if Truth formed not their basis, and corresponding acts did not exhibit the genuineness of those professions? What, we ask, but an unsubstantial shadow, a deceitful mirage, a false light which only

"Leads to bewilder,

And dazzles to blind?"

We would judge of the institution whose name stands at the head of this article, and the principles by which it is governed, by the standard above indicated, and we are willing to submit it and them to the scrutiny and decision of the world. We do not wish to institute any invidious comparisons between this institution and others of a similar benevolent character, nor would we, as some have done, cast imputations on the Church, charging her with dereliction in duty, in not attending to the wants and sufferings of the poor and friendless within her fold; but we must be permitted to say, in behalf of the Order, that its benevolence embraces, and its beneficence extends, to all within the sphere of its operations, without respect to condition or circumstances in life. With a spirit of philanthropy broad as the universe, it sends its guardian angels to every home of grief and want, and pours the oil of gladness into every sorrow-stricken heart.

In the dispensation of its charities it waits not for the trembling step and faltering tongue to visit its portals and beg for assistance, but, anticipating the wants of the sufferer, it hastens, with rapid step, to minister to his relief. Often, when the pestilence which walketh in darkness, and