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west to east, that gives to the moon the appearance of moving from east to west.) Those who are acquainted with the sphericity of the earth and waters, with very little reflection, will see that such swellings or elevations of the water on each side of the moon, cannot be produced but by their depression and displacement under the moon. The whole of the phenomena, the results of the moon's action upon the convex surface of the water, enters directly into the demonstration of this one fact, that the moon does depress the convexity of the water under her.

It is universally admitted-it is indeed admitted in the European theory of the tides-that wherever the moon is vertical to the oceanic waters, they are de

centre, perhaps, of the universe, just as our moon de- | and parallel with her path. (The reader will here unscribes an orbit concave to the sun. This description derstand, that it is the rotary motion of the earth from of orbit excludes the whole idea of centripetal and centrifugal forces, as now applied to the planets and their satellites. The planets move faster than the sun, the satellites faster than their primaries-all being electro-magnetically bound together. The sun throws off the planets, and the planets their satellites, as one magnet throws off another. This resistance between the sun and the earth, and the earth and moon, gives rise or rather produces that phenomenon we call the Tides. When we observe one magnet throw off another, we see that there is resistance, and that it is evidently pressure that produces the effect. Now the pressure of the moon upon the surface of this globe is less, as the moon moves from her conjunction to her opposition, and greater as she moves from her opposi-pressed, and it is there low water, and high water every tion to her conjunction. Any one acquainted with the true nature of the moon's path, will see at once the reason of this difference. As the moon moves in the rear of the earth, from her change to her full, she is in fact following the earth; but as she moves from the full to the change, she is forced ahead of the earth, and both moving to the same point in the heavens; the earth here drives the moon out of her way, and of course, the resistance will be increased, and hence the tides will rise higher than they do, when the moon is following the earth from conjunction to opposition. It is the motion of the sun that gives ellipticity to the orbits of the planets, precisely in the same way that the motion of the earth gives ellipticity to the orbit of the moon. The sun drives the planets out of his way, just as the moon is driven out of the way of the earth. This not only increases the resistance; it also brings them nearer together through the elasticity of their respective electro-magnetic spheres. The little sys-on these coasts under the pressure, I will here say, of tem which we recognise in Jupiter and his moons, when fully understood, must be our guide as to the mechanism of all other systems, whether great or small. A diagram representing truly the orbit of Jupiter, and the paths of his moons round him, will be, in miniature, a perfect representation of all the systems in the universe. No one sun, no one planet, nor satellite, ever describes an orbit which returns into itself. They all describe orbits concave to the grand centre of the whole.

As to the story of the apple falling from the tree to the earth, no just inferenees could have been drawn from that phenomenon, until it was shown that the moon existed under the same circumstances in relation to the earth as did the apple. We see that the moon has been aeted upon by some agent which has given her sphericity, and we also see that she is not altogether undisturbed in her path. We see further, that this disturbance must be the result of action and reaction, and just such an action and re-action as we observe in the electro-magnetic phenomena.

where else. The far-famed French mathematician (La Place) discovered, that when the moon is in her position south of the equator, the water rises higher in northern latitudes; and when the moon is north of the equator, the water rises higher in southern latitudes. He supposed Brest, in France, to be the best position on the globe for observing the true nature and the true cause of the tides. Then it may be presumed, that he made this discovery at that place. He knew also, that when the moon is vertical to the western coasts of Europe and Africa, it is all along these coasts low water; and that when the moon has passed on fifteen or twenty degrees over the Atlantic, then the water rises on these coasts, and plainly, because the moon had pressed down the convex surface of the water, and drove it north and south of her position; but as she passed on, the water regained its convex level, and of course, it was again elevated up

our circle of atmospheric air. Then La Place, as a reasoning man, and as a philosopher, ought to have given these facts their true bearing upon the tidal phenomena. But this he could not do, because it would have overthrown at once almost all that he had written concerning gravitation and the mechanism of the heavens.

The European attractionists say, the moon draws up the water under her; but a little reflection would have convinced them that such a supposed drawing up of the water, would, if true, have been destructive of one of their leading principles. They say their attraction diminishes as the distance increases; and to say that the moon draws up the water of our globe, is to give to the moon a greater power over our oceans than they give to the earth itself. Some of them say the water directly under the moon falls toward the moon, and this they call gravitation; and that the water in the opposite hemisphere recedes from the moon, her attraction being less in that hemisphere. But to clear away these opposing facts to the truth of their theory, they say the water does not rise immediately under the moon, it requiring some time for the action of their attraction and gravitation—and, therefore, the water rises after the moon has passed, and then follows the moon from east to west, regardless of the fact, that upon their own shores, and of which they had ocular

It will be admitted, that our circle of atmospheric air closely invests and equally presses the whole surface of this globe, and that this air, when in motion, raises tides as well as the moon. But can it raise tides without rendering the pressure upon the convex surface of the ocean unequal? The winds do not attract the water. Now, the moon raises tides in the same demonstration, the water was flowing from the moon, way that the winds do-by depressing the convex surface of the water under her-and it is well known, that water will yield to the slightest impulse, and of course, they will swell up on each side of her, north and south,

and not towards the moon. The truth is, the moon influences the water in the same way that a ship does. The ship gives an impulse to the water as she advances, and it is elevated in front and on each side of her; and

as she progresses, the water in her rear closes in and regains its convexity. Now, when the moon depresses the convex surface of the water of the Atlantic, the swell will be in the Pacific; and when it depresses the Pacific, the swell will be in the Atlantic; and really there is but one tide each day. But our continents obstruct the flow of the water from east to west, and this circumstance gives us the appearance of two tides in the twenty-four hours, when in fact, there would be otherwise but one tide and one ebb in the same time. This appearance has no doubt greatly misled the philosopher in his researches concerning the true nature of the tides.

is admitted, that when the moon has passed the western coasts of America, the water rises on these coaststhe moon evidently driving the water from her position eastward, and it being intercepted by the land, will rise high on these coasts. But the moon having passed on ninety degrees, the water recedes from this coast, moving westward, as though following the moon; the pressure of the moon being removed, the water now regains its natural convexity. It is very evident, then, that this receding of the water, following the moon from east to west, will be continued very uniformly until the moon has passed entirely over the Pacific; and the same state of things will exist, as the moon If we pass on to the western coasts of America, we passes over the Atlantie. The convex surface of our shall there find the same phenomena as exist on the elastic circle of atmospheric air, will be depressed in western coasts of Europe. When the moon is over the same way, and with the same effects as is the conthis coast it is also low water, and does not begin to vex surface of the water-the elasticity of the one and rise until she has passed fifteen or twenty degrees over the non-elasticity of the other, constituting the differthe Pacific, and there rises on each side of her, flow-ence as to effect and appearance. There will, thereing northward and southward, and which is proved by fore, be a current of air similar to that of the water, the fact, that the water now runs through the straits of following the moon from east to west-and but a very Magellan into the Atlantic, and through the straits of few rotations of the earth, under the pressing influBherring, so as to reach the mouth of the Copper Mine ence of the moon, would give a steady permanency to river, as reported by that veteran traveller, Hearne, both currents. But the heat generated by the action I think. Here the tide or high water is kept up for of the sun upon the continents, which increases the twelve hours, and in the straits of Magellan they have elasticity of the air, will interrupt the aerial current, high stationary water for six hours, independent of the and produce adverse movements. No degree of heat flux and reflux, first from the Atlantic and then from less than steaming will affect the water; but a small the Pacific, according as the moon is over the one or degree of heat will greatly affect atmospheric air, and the other. When the moon is over the Atlantic, the produce effects not readily calculable. Instead of the water runs for three hours through these straits into water following the moon, as taught in the books, it the Pacific, and when over the Pacific it runs through is regaining its convexity under the equal and direct them three hours from the Pacific into the Atlantic, pressure of our sphere of elastic air, which convexity and then remains six hours high stationary water. had been broken down by the pressure of the moon. Now I ask is it possible, that if the moon draws up the Hence the moon drives the water to the east of her water under her, that she can thus produce and sus- position, as seen on the western coasts of America; tain the phenomena which takes place at these two po- and she drives the water also to the west, as is shown sitions on the globe, as she passes over the Pacific on the eastern coasts of Asia and Africa; and when ocean? Then, as she approaches the eastern coasts of her influence is removed, the regular pressure of the Africa and Asia, the tide rises very high on these air forces it into its natural convex figure, and this accoasts, particularly at Babelmandel. Then the highest tion or pressure of the air will continue round the rise of the water on these coasts must be at least six globe, driving the water after the moon-and hence the hours before the arrival of the moon, as wherever the currents of air and water westward, as noticed by navimoon is vertical to any place, it is invariably low water. gators. Here then we have full demonstration, that the moon not only elevates the water on both sides of her, but elevates it also before her; and, from the high tide in the bay of Panama, she must drive the water back as she passes on; and when the water ebbs at Panama, it will rise at Babelmandel—the moon being, I may here say, ninety degrees from each place. But as the moon approaches the meridian of Babelinandel, the water will fall there, but continues its elevation on each side, as at Tonquin, and in the straits between Madagascar and the African continent. The tide continuing so long up at Tonquin, gave rise to the notion, very strangely indeed, that two tides met at that place. As to the idea of the moon drawing up the water under her, or drawing it after her, it is difficult to conceive the source or phenomenon from which such an idea could have been derived. I cannot discover in the whole of the oceanic phenomena, as given to us in any theory of the tides, a single fact that would justify it, or give the slightest support to such an idea.

But with the tides are connected the winds, or rather the motion of the tropical portion of our atmospheric air, with the current of the tropical waters from east to west. Then, as the fact has been stated, and which

We know of no other agents having direct action or pressure upon this globe, except those bands of elastic matter by which it is evidently invested, and the moon which attends it. The influence of the sun belongs to other considerations, which are not now to be noticed. The moon breaks down and displaces the water under her, and when that greater force or pressure is removed, the pressure of the air again gives to it its natural sphericity. These are the only agents engaged in producing the phenomena we call the tides; and that they are abundantly adequate to produce the phenomena, there can be no doubt. Then admit that the moon does actually press upon and displace the water under her, does it not follow that something more than a depression of the water's surface would result? Can any thing be more reasonably expected, than that the rotation or axillary motion of the earth, so pressed upon, would succeed to such a pressure? And can any other reason be given, why the earth should have such a rotatory motion, as we know she has, and the moon not? It is said, that neither of Jupiter's moons has axillary motion; and they certainly have been revolving round their primary long enough to have acquired it, if it could be acquired without such a pres

turbations of the planets in their paths, show conclusively that they are influenced by matter in a state of high elasticity, as no planet can disturb its own motion, unless it had a mind and muscles through which to effect it, and also a system of nerves for the transmission of its will. The same instrumentality by which the planets are moved in their paths, gives rise to that disturbance which has been observed by the practical

This disturbance is produced by the interference of their electro-magnetic spheres.

sure as the earth receives from her attendant. The more rapid motion of the moon must necessarily throw the pressing force invariably upon the eastern section of the earth, and she must revolve in the direction of that force, from west to east. This, a slight knowledge of their orbits and different velocities, will be sufficient to test the facts, and without my prosecuting the inquiry any further at this time. I will, therefore, only now remark, that some astronomers say Venus re-astronomer, when an inner planet passes an outer one. volves on her axis once in 24 days, and others once in 24 hours; but Herschel says, he could not discover that she had any rotatory motion at all-This is no doubt When La Place had ascertained the fact, that as the the truth of the case; for, if she has no moon to give moon passed over the Atlantic, it was low water under her rotation, she will revolve as the moon does, and her, and the swell was on each side of her, north and during one-half of her period one side will be involved south, and the farther from the moon the greater the in darkness, and the other half, the other side, will be swell, is it not a little strange that he should have come subjected to the full blaze of the sun. But to show to the conclusion that the moon was drawing up the wathe entire insufficiency of our astronomers' gravitater towards herself? Now, whether I shall finally be tions and attractions to produce such effects, belongs to another place and to another time.

found either right or wrong, I shall endeavor to wake up American philosophers from the bewildering effects of the opiates administered to the scientific world by the mathematicians of the last century.

elastic matter rotating with it-the planet occupying the centre of this revolutionary band, and which acts directly upon the planet, and not the planet upon it. This elastic sphere of matter carries the planet in its course as it revolves round itself and round the sun, describing just such an orbit as the moon describes round the earth. I know I am treading on unbeaten

The Copernican scheme or system, as it has been delineated, explained and defended, has greatly misled the scientific as to its mechanism, and the mechanism It is evident, it cannot be questioned, that Jupiter's of all other systems throughout creation. It has been moons describe orbits round their primary, invariably treated as an insulated system-the sun a stationary concave to the sun, and it is equally evident the phebody. Down to the time of Dr. Wilson of Glasgow, Scotland, there appears to have been not even a hint that nomena demonstrate it, and equally so do the intuithe sun might be a progressive body. The astronomers tive recognitions of the mind, that the planets describe preceding this period seem to have been exclusively the same kind of orbits, and equally concave to some engaged in hunting up forces suited to the orbits of more distant centre, around which the sun himself is their planets round a stationary sun; and when they describing a similar orbit. Now, the only difficulty supposed they had found such forces, then they were which lies in the way of ascertaining the true distance principally employed in defending them against those of each planet from the sun, consists in ascertaining who could not understand the modus of the action of the true distance of the moon from the earth, or the such forces, until finally it was agreed that the sys-diameter of our rotating planet, including its band of tem itself was perfectly understood, and their forces infallibly demonstrated to be the true forces, and the only forces which could sustain and perpetuate such a system as they imagined to exist; for the system, as taught by Copernicus, was not the true system as it existed and as it passed from the hands of its Creator. They had the system of Jupiter and his satellites before them, though they seem to have taken no account whatever of the nature of the orbits these satellites de-ground; but that is far from being a sufficient reason scribed round their primary. If they had put a pro-in science, as they are in opening and levelling roads. why I should not proceed. Pioneers are as necessary per estimate upon the phenomena fully presented by Jupiter and his retinue of little worlds, they would It is true I am but a volunteer, and that too without certainly have discovered, that if their forces were any authority whatever from those who might, in the suited to bodies revolving round a stationary sun or opinion of some, be considered as constituting a legiticentre, they could not be suited to bodies revolving mate authoritative source. It is said the planets are round the progressing Jupiter, or our progressing "deflected towards the sun, and the moons towards Earth. Now, as to such forces as our astronomers have their primaries;" but to show how they are reflected, applied to orbits round a stationary body returning in- if I may use the word, and kept at their appropriate to themselves, it is very evident from their own calcu- distances, is now the question. The projection of the lations and demonstrations, that they are suited only to mathematicians will not do that would have thrown such orbits; then there being no such stationary body, them all together, and we should have had a "crush of and of course no such orbits in creation to which they worlds" the first revolution that was made by the placould be applied, such a stationary sun, and such ornets and their satellites. bits, could have existed only in their own imaginations. The mechanism of Jupiter's little system gives us, as I have before remarked, a conclusive idea of the mechanism, not only of the greater system of our sun, but of all the systems composing the universe; and a little reflection will serve to convince us, that if there had been no matter in a state of elasticity, there never could have been any motion regularly established. Our own motions depend upon the elasticity of our own muscular system. The very disturbances or per

WRITERS.

The thoughts of many writers remind one of dandies-they are extremely well dressed, but then they have the slight misfortune to be brainless.

Hesperian.

BENEVOLENCE AND MODESTY.

AN ESSAY.

By the author of "Adventures of a Bachelor."

:

nying me to one of my haunts. I will soon be compelled to leave here."

"I will go with you," said I, "and substitute your lessons for the sermon. But what will compel you to leave here?" Just then my remarks were abruptly broken off by the intrusion of a red faced gentleman, who, with an air of uncommon importance, placed his foot under the mendicant, and forced him to rise.

"Stop! you impudent scoundrel!" said I, interfering, on recognising the intruder to be the sexton.

"Never mind," said the beggar, laughing, "I am willing to exchange this stand for any other, as far as profit is concerned." And when the old fellow hobbled off, I followed him.

"Now," said my companion, when we were ensconsed under an awning on the wharf, where an old woman, whom he informed me was deaf and dumb, kept cakes and apples for sale, sat dosing by, "I will tell you why you should dispense with your generous and modest face. Genuine modesty comprehends more than mere inoffensive diffidence: it is the radiant ne plus ultra of nature's alchemy, formed of all the most valuable particles of the soul, and consequently only fit for heaven."

A modest, benevolent face may be compared to a cupboard without a lock-a repository for peculation, invitingly open to every greedy cormorant, and as little respected when rifled of its contents, as a swine trough, into which the animal's snout is thrust at first, but as the contents diminish, the whole of its body is inserted. A modest man should always be poor; if, for no other reason, only to disappoint the ravenous sharks who know not the virtue. A mild, open countenance may also be compared to a ripe pear, hanging over the highway, a mark for the slings of every passer, and exposed to all the ill winds that blow. Fie upon it! we are taught to cherish it, and find too late that we have nourished a viper. It might be a valuable virtue, if all, or even a respectable portion of mankind harbored it so would there be no necessity of closing our doors at night if all men were honest. These reflections were engendered one fine sabbath morning after setting out for church. It was a most lovely day in autumn, inspiring, even in the city: there had been one or two frosts, that paled the leaves on the lindens before the door, and now the sun shone out clear, mild and invigorating. It was na-pound." tural for a complaisant smile to rest on my lips, as I descended the snow-white steps of my boarding house, and joined the throng of pedestrians, which increased in numbers as we approached the vicinity of the timehonored edifice. The aged man tottered along the same walk he had traversed in childhood; and the young and joyful wended the same road, whilst few of them, it may be, entertained many thoughts of death and the grave hard by. Near one of the fluted columns of the splendid granite "temple of the Lord," seated on the cold steps, with a crutch in one hand and a rusty wool hat in the other, was stationed a cadaverous old beggar. Now, thought I, will be practised the holy charity, on the threshold of the holy house, where the holy precept is taught. As the crowd swept in I found myself standing before the mendicant.

"Well, my good man," said I, "you have doubtless reaped a full harvest, this delightful morning."

66

"My dear sir,” said I, "you put it all to the blush! You tell me to my face that I possess this rare com

"I do say it,” he replied, "and instead of a grateful blush, a tear of regret would be more appropriate, unless you retire from the world and live a hermit's life. You would then be beyond the influence of the vices of the world, and, instead of having your virtues preyed upon by the vicious, you might enjoy the treasure which God has endowed you with in peace. Vice and virtue are antagonist qualities, and as there is ten-fold more of the former on the earth, so when they come in contact the victory is to numbers: therefore it is wisdom to keep them asunder, or if they must mingle, it is prudence to dispense with the semblance of the latter, as a soldier does the badge of his country, when surrounded by the enemy."

"This is most extraordinary!" I exclaimed.

"I am perfectly aware of that," replied my companion; "and, if you will give me your attention, I will briefly relate some of the incidents of my life." Unhesitatingly assenting, and signifying great curiosity to know his history, he threw aside his crutch, and leaning back against a keg on which I was desired to sit, he thus began:

'Behold," said he, "my treasure." I looked in, and found only some half dozen coppers. "But you," continued he, holding up the hat, "have the right kind of face, and the moment I saw you I knew my little store would be increased." I am sure it was a na- "I was the only child of humble parents, who lived tural impulse, and not his practiced flattery, that in- by keeping a small flower garden near the city. I was duced me to contribute, for my pocket was already deli-sent to school when very young, and was distinguished vered of its little mite, set apart for the church, before for my learning and bashfulness. At the age of thirteen he was half done speaking. I was left an orphan—both my parents dying the same "Heaven bless your generous countenance !" conti-day; being swept off by an epidemic. I was now the nued the old man, looking me steadily in the eye, "it inheritor of a few hundred dollars, and might have conwill be a treasure for you in heaven, but on earth you tinued my father's business successfully, had it not will find it a curse, and I would advise you to dispense been for my constitutional infirmity, modesty, which ever with it as quick as possible." Struck with the singulari-prevented me from bustling with my fellow men and ty of his remark, I was rivetted to the spot in aston-pushing my fortune. I hired myself to a neighboring

ishment. gardener, and for several years led a contented life: but "Why should you form this conclusion, and tender the fairest flower, the one with which I was most desuch advice, my friend ?" I inquired.

"Were this a fitting place I would tell you; and if you really wish to hear me, you can do so by accompa

lighted, was the gentle Rosa, my employer's daughter. Long I loved her; and the passion was mutual. She delighted to descant in my presence on the various sig

nifications of the plants-and, at parting, she would pin | most laudable purpose you left home; but instead of

on my breast the one which was the badge of love and constancy. Yet the curse of timidity hung over me! When the time arrived for me to act, when it became necessary for me to declare my love in words, and solicit her hand, my tongue refused its office, and I construed her silence and coyness into a rejection; and without seeking another interview, I fled to the city. Here, amongst strangers, whom I had not confidence to ask for employment, nor firmness to deny my purse to any, I was soon left destitute. When on the borders of despair, and wishing that some friendly dispensation of Providence, would take me from amongst the living, a war was declared, and I gladly shouldered a musket in the defence of my country. In the first conflict, urged more by a reckless desire of death, than impelled by a sense of duty, it was my fortune to distinguish myself, and receive the particular commendations of my officer. But in the next action I was made a cripple for life, fell into the hands of the enemy, and when I awoke from a long delirium I found myself in a hospital in England. They had evidently taken me for one of their own party, of the same name, who, I supposed, had perished in the battle. I told them who and what I was, and soon found myself abandoned, in a strange land, without money, and unable to work for a living. For years I pursued the occupation of a beggar, hoarding up my savings to return to my native land. I now thought of my faint-heartedness, and felt certain that Rosa would gladly have been mine, had I only pressed my suit! Aye, the bitterest sting of modesty is the conviction of calmer moments, that it has been hopelessly ill-timed, and could so easily and profitably have been dispensed with! I called several times on our minister, but paused at the threshold, and never had the heart to see him, even when he had granted an audience. At length a humane captain gave me a passage in the steerage, and when I again set foot on this wharf, I hastened to Rosa's garden, determined to try my fortune once more, even under more unfavorable circumstances than formerly. I saw her from a thicket of shrubbery, culling flowers as usual, but several prattling children were round her, calling to 'mama!' I turned, and fled away.

"I learned that the wounded of the late war were entitled to pensions, and I repaired to the war office to assert my claims. The functionary looked at the list, stared me in the face, and thrust me out, saying I had been paid only the week before. In vain were my protestations to the contrary. I was shown my name (it was that of the Englishman!) on the pension list, and was assured that I had regularly received my pay for years! Again I fled back to this city, and pursued the mendicant's occupation. Another had usurped my name, and taken my pay, and I was a bashful outcastbrow-beaten out of my own identity-a victim of мoDESTY!

“This, young man, is a portion of my history. My profession has made me a good judge of faces, and I advise you to throw aside your benevolent modesty as soon as possible. To-day I singled you out from hundreds; and, rely upon it, your want of assurance may prove the greatest curse of your life. What have you done to-day? Your yielding disposition has caused you to be guilty of profanity and sacrilege: with the

listening to the pious admonitions of the parson, you are in the company of swearing sailors and drunken ruffians-this is profanity. You put aside a few pennies for the support of christianity, and they are in my hand!" Here my companion laughed and jingled the money in his hand—“ And this,” he continued, “is sacrilege."

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Snap, you're mad to carry on so, now. Get rid of This was spoken by the old deaf and dumb woAt the same instant my companion ran off, with all the nimbleness imaginable, leaving his crutch behind! I was astounded and stupified. I gave the old hag, who was chuckling at my bewilderment, a hasty glance, and set out in a deep study for my lodgings. “If this be madness, there is method in it!" I involuntarily quoted, when I reached my lodgings and found myself minus a fine gold watch! Reader, this was a lesson with a vengeance! Would it not be well to remember it?

STANZAS.

FROM A LADY'S PORT-FOLIO. Oh! ask me not to breathe the strain Of earlier, happier days; To strike the long lost lyre again,

To gay and gladsome lays.

For ah! life's beauty and its pride,
Its freshness and its light,
Have fled, and little left beside,

But weariness and blight.

They rise, fond mem'ries of the past!
A bright and hallow'd train;
And sadly o'er my pathway cast
Their shadowy joys again.

J. J.

But trust them not! Hope's wreaths are bound
Of fading, earthly flowers;
Flowers, that alas! are only found

To bloom in summer bowers.

For winter comes, and o'er their skies
Its storms and tempests roll ;-
Their bloom is fled-but canker lies
Deep in the shrined soul.

Then call not thou my spirit back
To these frail things of clay,
To seek again the wonted track
Of pleasure's flowery way.
But let me rather turn from all

That binds my being here,
And bows it 'neath the dreamy thrall
Of time's enslaving sphere-
And seek those never failing streams,

That faith's pure fount supplies;
That hope which o'er us kindly beams,
To light us to the skies.

Then ask me not to breathe the strain
Of earlier, happier days;
To strike the long lost lyre again,
To gay and gladsome lays.

S. P.

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