iarty with our subject, I do not anticipate that at our general meetings we shall witness such theurgic phenomena as were exhibited in the ancient temples.

It is as impossible for these results to be obtained without perfect community of thought, will, and desire, as it was for Jesus to work his wonders at Nazareth because of the prevalent unbelief, or Paul his at Athens where the populace knew how to check the subtle currents which he controlled by his will. A single very positive and unfriendly will is competent when introduced at a spiritual circle to utterly destroy the mediumistic power. If Professor Tyndall had known this law, he would not have written his nonsense to the Dialectical Society. Professor Stainton-Moses, of the University College, London, writes me that the mere entrance of such a person into the house-not even the room-has done this in his experience frequently. Mr. Crookes says that Florence Cook, his medium, has been spoiled for a season by a walk down Regent Street; each person who brushed against her depriving her of some portion of her mediumisic power. If she be in fact a medium and not an imposter, I do not doubt the possibility of this being the case. Every one who has studied mesmerism is aware that no satisfactory results can be obtained without perfect accord among those engaged in the experiment or standing near by as spectators. These things being so, how can he expect that as a society we can have any very remarkable illustrations of the control of the adept theurgist over the subtle powers of nature?

But here is where Mr. Felt's alleged discoveries will come into play. Without claiming to be a theurgist, a mesmerist, or a spiritualist, our Vice-President promises, by simple chemical applia ces, to exhibit to us, as he has to others before, the races of beings which, invisible to our eyes, people the elements. Think for a moment of this astounding claim! Fancy the consequences of the practical demonstration of its truth, for which Mr. Felt is now preparing the requisite apparatus! What will the church say of a whole world of beings within her

territory but without her jurisdiction? What will the academy say of this crushing proof of an unseen universe given by the most unimaginative of its sciences? What will the Positivists say, who have been prating of the impossibility of their being any entity which can not be weighed in scales, filtered through funnels, tested with litmus, or carved with a scalpel? What will the spiritualists say, when through the column of saturated vapor flit the dreadful shapes of beings whom, in their blindness, they have in a thousand cases revered and babbled to as the returning shades of their relatives and friends? Alas! poor spiritualists-editors and correspondents--who have made themselves jocund over my impudence and apostasy. Alas, sleek scientists, overswollen with the wind of popular applause! The day of reckoning is close at hand, and the name of the Theosophical Society will, if Mr. Felt's experiments result favorably, hold its place in history as that of the body which first exhibited the Elementary Spirits" in this nineteenth century of conceit and infidelity, even if it be never mentioned. for any other reason.

THE POWER OF LOGARITHMS-The following example will illustrate the great advantage of logarithms in abridging arithmetical labor. In the higher parts of analysis, the use of logarithms is indispensable. It would not be difficult to propose questions, which by logarithms might be wrought in a few moments, but if wrought by arithmetrical rules, would require

years.

How many figures will be required to express 999? The exponent of the above expression is

99387420489

Putting it into logarithms, we have log. 9387420489

... 9999387420489

387420480Xlog. 9387420489 X

0.954242509439 = 369693099.63 &c.

Hence, the number answering to this logarithm must consist of 369093100 figures. The number, if printed, wou'd fill up. wards of 256 volumes of 400 pages each, allowing 60 lines to a page, and 60 figures to a line.

"A Thousand Eyes Are Given Night".

The following gem of poetry was originally written by Geo. Waldo Browne in September, 1890, and first published in the monthly journal Spirit in New York, April, 1891. From this some person has published a volume of poetry which contains that given below, which is taken from an exchange. We leave our readers to draw their own conclusions. Mr. Browne is a resident of this city, a poet and widely known as a historian, and story writer.

The Light of Love.

BY GEO. WALDO BROWNE.

A thousand eyes are given night,
While the day has only one;
Yet swiftly dies the world's fair light
At the setting of the sun.

The mind is given a thousand eyes,
While the heart has only one;
Yet all the light of lifetime dies
When the day of love is done.

"This exquisite little volume of verse will appeal to every lover of genuine poetry. Its contents are like a string of perfect pearls. The opening poem, from which the collection takes its name, cannot be quoted too often. It is one of the examples in modern English poetry of how much can perfectly be said in a few words:

The night has a thousand eyes,

And the day but one,

Yet the light of the bright world dies

With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,

And the heart but one;

Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.

The Springfield Arsenal.

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.

This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling
Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms;
But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing
Startles the villagers with strange alarms.

Ah! what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary,
When the Death-Angel touches those swift keys!
With loud lament and dismal Miserere

Will mingle with their awful symphonies!

I hear, even now, the infinite fierce chorus,
The cries of agony, the endless groan,-
Which, through the ages that have gone before us,
In long reverberations reach our own.

On helm and harness rings the Saxon hammer, Through Cimbric forest roars the Norseman's song And lod amid the universal clamor.

O'er distant deserts sounds the Tartar gong.

I hear the Florentine, who from his palace
Wheels out his bottle-bell with dreadful din,
And Aztec priests, upon their teocallis,

Beat the wild war-drums made of serpent's skin.

The tumult of each sacked and burning village;
The shout, that every prayer for mercy drowns;
The soldiers' revels in the midst of pillage,
And wail of famine in beleaguered towns!

The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder,
The rattling musketry, the clashing blade;
And ever and anon, in tones of thunder,
The diapason of the cannonade.

Is it, O man, with such discordant noises,

With such accursed instruments as these,

Thou drownest Nature's sweet and kindly voices,

And jarrest the celestial harmonies?

Were half the power that fills the world with terror,

Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts,

Given to redeem the human mind from error,
There were no need of arsenals and forts.

The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
And every nation that should lift gain
Its hand against its brother, on its forehead
Would wear for evermore the curse of Cain!

Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter, and then cease; And, like a hell, with solemn, sweet vib ations,

I hear once mo e the voice of Christ say, "Peace!"

Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals

The blast of War's great organ -hakes the skies! But beautiful as songs of the immortal,

The holy melodies of Love arise.

Philopena.

There was a beautiful princess who was so fond of almonds that she ate them constantly, but nothing would induce her to get married; and in order to rid herself of suitors, of whom she had a great many, she invented the following plan :

To every suitor who sought her hand she presented the half of a double almond, while she ate the other half, and said: "If your lordship can succeed in getting me to take anything from your hand before I say the words 'I remember,' then I am ready to wed you. But if, on the contrary, you receive anything from me without thinking to speak these words, then you must consent to have your hair shaven entirely off your head and leave the kingdom."

However, this was an artful strategem, for it was a court custom that no one should hand anything direct to the princess, but to the court lady, who then offered it to her. But if, on the other hand, the princess desired to give anything direct, who could refuse to accept? So it was useless for suitors to make the trial, for when they seemed on the point of succeeding, and had diverted the princess so that she was about to take something from them, the court lady always stepped between and thus spoiled the best laid plan.

When the princess wished to dispose of one of them she would appear so charming and encouraging to him that he would be entirely fascinated and overcome, then she, in an outburst of apparent love, would seize upon any trinket near at hand and present it to him, saying, " Take this in remembrance of me," and when he had taken it and before he could speak the necessary words, there was sure to spring out from it a bat or hornet, or frog, and so startle him that he forgot to say the words. Then he was shaven and sent away. This went on for some years, and in all the palaces of the neighboring kingdoms the princes wore wigs. Thus it came to be a custom.

Finally it happened that a prince came to the palace from a foreign land and met the princess. He thought her very beau tiful and at once perceived her stratagem. A friendly little old man had given an apple that once a year he was permitted to smell, and then there came into his mind a very wise idea, and he had become much renowned for his deep wisdom. He smelled his apple and with the scent from it came this warning: "If thou wouldst win in the game of giving and taking, un