tree of Ceylon, and the forest, older than the Flood, that lies buried deep in the heart of Africa, far behind the Mountains of the Moon, gave it out. The rain we see descending was thawed for us out of the icebergs which have watched the polar star for ages, or it came from snows that rested on the summits of the Alps, but which the lotus lilies have soaked up from the Nile, and exhaled as vapor again into the ever-present air.

4. There are processes no less interesting going on in other parts of this magnificent field of research. Water is nature's carrier; with its currents it conveys heat away from the torrid zone and ice from the frigid; or, bottling the caloric away in the vesicles of its vapor, it first makes it impalpable, and then conveys it, by unknown paths, to the most distant parts of the earth. The materials of which the coral builds the island and the sea-conch its shell are gathered by this restless leveller from mountains, rocks, and valleys in all latitudes. Some it washes down from the Mountains of the Moon, or out of the gold-fields of Australia, or from the mines of Potosi; others from the battle-fields of Europe, or from the marble-quarries of ancient Greece and Rome. These materials, thus collected and carried over falls or down rapids, are transported from river to sea, and delivered by the obedient waters to each insect and to every plant in the ocean at the right time and temperature, in proper form and in due quantity.

5. Treating the rocks less gently, it grinds them into dust, or pounds them into sand, or rolls and rubs them until they are fashioned into pebbles, rubble, or bowlders; the sand and shingle on the

sea-shore are monuments of the abrading, triturating power of water. By water the soil has been brought down from the hills and spread out into valleys, plains, and fields for man's use. Saving the rocks on which the everlasting hills are established, everything on the surface of our planet seems to have been removed from its original foundation and lodged in its present place by water. Protean in shape, benignant in office, water, whether fresh or salt, solid, fluid, or gaseous, is marvellous in its powers. It is one of the chief agents in the manifold workshops in which and by which the earth has been made a habitation fit for man.

MAURY.

SOUL AND BODY.

POOR Soul! the centre of my sinful earth,
Fooled by those rebel powers that thee array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?

Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,

Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?

Then, Soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;

Within be fed, without be rich no more:
So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men,
And, death once dead, there's no more dying then.

SHAKSPEARE.

1. THAT was a joyous day in Rheims of old,
When peal on peal of mighty music rolled
Forth from her thronged cathedral; while around,
A multitude, whose billows made no sound,
Chained to a hush of wonder, though elate
With victory, listened at their temple's gate.
And what was done within? Within, the light,
Through the rich gloom of pictured windows
flowing,

Tinged with soft awfulness a stately sight-
The chivalry of France, their proud heads bowing
In martial vassalage; while, midst that ring,
And shadowed by ancestral tombs, a king
Received his birthright's crown. For this the hymn
Swelled out like rushing waters, and the day,
With the sweet censer's misty breath, grew dim,
As through long aisles it floated o'er the array
Of arms and sweeping stoles.

2.

But who, alone

And unapproached, beside the altar-stone,

With the white banner, forth, like sunshine, stream

ing,

And the gold helm, through clouds of fragrance

gleaming,

Silent and radiant stood? The helm was raised,
And the fair face revealed, that upward gazed,

Intensely worshipping-a still, clear face,
Youthful, but brightly solemn ! Woman's cheek
And brow were there, in deep devotion meek,
Yet glorified with inspiration's trace

On its pure paleness; while, enthroned above,
The pictured Virgin, with her smile of love,
Seemed bending o'er her votaress.

3.

That slight form!

Was that the leader through the battle-storm?
Had the soft light in that adoring eye

Guided the warrior where the swords flashed high? 'Twas so, even so! and thou, the shepherd's child,

Joan, the lowly dreamer of the wild!

Never before, and never since that hour,

Hath woman, mantled with victorious power,

Stood forth as thou beside the shrine didst stand,
Holy amidst the knighthood of the land,

And, beautiful with joy and with renown,
Lift thy white banner o'er the olden crown,
Ransomed for France by thee!

4.

The rites are done.

Now let the dome with trumpet notes be shaken,
And bid the echoes of the tombs awaken,

And come thou forth, that heaven's rejoicing sun May give thee welcome from thine own blue skies, Daughter of victory! A triumphant strain,

A proud, rich stream of warlike melodies,

Gushed through the portals of the antique fane, And forth she came. Then rose a nation's sound. Oh, what a power to bid the quick heart bound, The wind bears onward with the stormy cheer, Man gives to Glory on her high career!

Is there indeed such power? Far deeper dwells
In one kind household voice, to reach the cells
Whence happiness flows forth !

5.

The shouts, that filled The hollow heaven tempestuously, were stilled One moment; and, in that brief pause, the tone, As of a breeze that o'er her home had blown, Sank

on the bright maid's heart. "Joan!" Who spoke

Like those whose childhood with her childhood

grew

Under one roof?

"Joan!" That murmur broke

With sounds of weeping forth! She turned-she

knew

Beside her, marked from all the thousands there,