the depth, and occupying ten times the period originally suggested, he talks vauntingly of the triumphs of science, and the exact deductions of Philosophy; as he did in the case of the famous Artesian Well at Paris!

Just so was it with the well, still uncompleted on Southampton Common. Disappointed in their expectations, the committee called in the aid of Dr. Buckland, who attempted to stimulate their failing courage, by a lecture on the subject of Artesian Wells.

And what did he tell them? That perhaps they might find water-and perhaps not; that if they did, they would be glad to see it, and that if not, they would only fail as hundreds had failed before them.

Philosophy is the poetry of Art, but the Poet, properly so called, rises still higher than the philosopher: he is the Prophet of philosophy. It has been noted as a recent discovery that two rays of light crossing each other produce darkness. But two centuries ago the sightless bard of Paradise Lost-who as an authority in matters of vision might have been laughed down by the unthinking—had anticipated this wonderful fact, when he described the uncreated glories of heaven as "Dark with excess of Light."

Nor would it be difficult to bring forward other instances. Who, for example, will deny the prophetic afflatus to those well known lines of Cowper, in which half a century back he sketches a living picture of the spurious philosophy of this very day? And who on reading them can for a moment hesitate to draw the conclusion, that, in a certain sense, the poet is a greater man than the philosopher?

Some drill and bore

The solid earth, and from the strata there
Extract a Register from which we learn,
That He who made it and revealed its date
To Moses, was mistaken in its age.
Some more acute, or more industrious still,
Contrive Creation-travel Nature up

To the sharp peak of her sublimest height,
And tell us whence the stars-why some are fixed,
And planetary, some-what gave them first
Rotation-from what fountain flowed the light.

THE VICTORY OF THE FAITH.

"PHILOSOPHY is no longer scanned with a jealous eye. The time was, at least, when its name was in little favor among our many. The discoveries of science were supposed to lour with an ominous aspect upon Christianity; but this is now better understood. There has been no compromise, no concession; all that is proper, Christianity, the religion of salvation, has long been given to us in the inspired page. We ask no new lights as to its substance, though new, and still more beautiful illustrations may be continually thrown around it. In itself it is complete; it is a dogmatical discovery. We should as soon think of addition to the physics of the universe, or to the principles of mathematics, as to the compass of the gospel. But now, let just and comprehensive philosophy commence any of its studies in reference to it, we hail its approach and subserviency. If moral, having worked out its theory of obligation, it will find in Christianity its best sanction and true approval. If inductive, Christianity anticipates it; "Prove all things; hold fast that which is good." If the philosophy of history, Christianity furnishes its only scheme and key. If the philosophy of the mind, it is forestalled by the scriptural analysis of the inner man. Kindle these illuminations to all their strength, our religion looks but the more intensely glorious beneath them. Or, let science lay open her experiments, we still are fearless. Scan the chronology of the firmament, read history in the stratification of the rocks,-discovery and deduction are on our side. Let the great laboratory be entered, let forge and crucible be plied. Let silicon, the matrix of modern miracles be put to all its torture; these elements are at an eternal distance from life and selfaction. Archæology may lift its torch upon the dark backward abysm of time, not a date, nor a scene, nor an event of our religion does it disturb. In all this are seen the might and divinity and victory of our faith.-Hamilton.

POETRY.

ness

BEN CHEILT.

[The late Sir John Sinclair in vain urged his brother landowners to supply the deficiency of roads which existed in his native CaithThere was a steep hill called 'Ben Cheilt' which ran right through the county, and as an objection to the turnpike, it was always asked-often in tone of ridicule, "When will you shew us a road over Ben Cheilt ?" But one morning, having provided beforehand, a great store of implements, the young laird mustered on the spot twelve hundred laborers. and a good carriage-way was soon thrown over this terrible mountain.]

Wouldst thou fashion some new pathway, on life's hard and rugged soil,

Which shall ease the weary pilgrim pressing on from day to day; Fear not that " Ben Cheilt" before thee, but with perseverance toil,

And one clear and sunny morning, thou shalt find a level way. In the work of self-improvement, dost thou fix thy saddened glance,

On a strong and sinful habit, which thine onward course impedes.

If thou wouldst subdue the evil, and in holiness advance,
Know that vigorous prayerful effort, step by step to victory leads.

Or art thou an earnest student, poring o'er the mystic page, And does some "Ben Cheilt" uprising, seem to make thy labor vain,

Heed it not-press boldly forwards—all thine ardent powers engage,

And thou shalt overcome the barrier, and thy longed-for object

gain.

Hast thou met with opposition, while attempting to obey Duty's clear and steady summons? yield not now to self-repose; Manfully fulfil thy purpose; let no fears thy progress stay; And that peace shall cheer thy spirit which from well-earned victory flows.

Brave, oh brave all difficulties, if thy plans and aims are right; Nothing great can be accomplished without hope and toil and strife;

Patience linked with perseverance girds thee with all-conquering might;

And no stern" Ben Cheilt" should daunt thee, in the enterprise

of life.

London.

H. M. W.

THE STORM ON THE LAKE.

(Suggested by a Sermon from Luke viii. 22.)

They launched their little boat upon the peaceful lake,
Obedient to the word which Christ their Saviour spake ;
His presence with them went-the air was calm and clear—
But soon a storm arose and filled their hearts with fear.
Christian! thou sailest now on life's uncertain sea,
And Christ, thy friend and guide, is evermore with thee;
His voice thy course directs—yet troublous winds may blow,
And swelling waves of grief, thy trembling soul o’erflow;
Think it not strange when storms of dark temptation rise ;
Through conflict and distress thy passage chiefly lies.
Upon that storm-tossed lake, the Saviour calmly slept ;
Regardless of the wind that fiercely round him swept;
Had he forgotten those dependant on his aid?
Or cared not that they felt imperilled and afraid ?

Ah Christian, thou dost think too oft in hours of need,
That Christ o'er looks thy wants, nor does thy danger heed;
When he unmindful seems, doubt not his loving care;
He would but test thy faith and energize thy prayer;
Would draw thee to himself when earthly hope is dim,
That succour thou mayest gain and sympathy from him.
"Master, we perish!" Then Christ bade the tempest cease,
And those tumultuous winds were gently hushed in peace;
Yet as he calmed the storm this mild reproof he gave,
O ye of little faith! why doubt my power to save?
Learn, timid Christian, learn to trust thy Saviour more;
Nor think that He will fail to land thee safe on shore;
Thy fragile bark may now be saddly tempest-tossed;
But if with Christ embarked-how can thy soul be lost?
All things and all events his mighty hand doth guide;
What perish in the storm when he He is at thy side?
Each proud tempestuous wave is subject to his will;
If he but whisper " peace," the ruffled lake is still.
Fear not! but call on him when waves of sorrow rise,
And he will own the faith which on his help relies;

Will hush life's storms and guide thee to that tranquil shore,
When earthly cares and griefs shall harrass thee no more.

London.

H. M. W.