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this vast and inconceivably magnificent and august apparatus is attached, and around which it is continually revolving. Oh! what a spectacle for the cherubim and seraphim, and the spirits of the just made perfect, who dwell on the right hand of that throne, if, as may be, and probably is, the case, their eyes are permitted to pierce through the whole, and take in, at one glance, all its order, beauty, sublimity and glory, and their ears to distinguish that celestial harmony, unheard by us, in which those vast globes, as they roll on in their respeetive orbits, continually hymn their great Creator's praise!"



With what a stately and majestic step
That glorious constellation of the north
Treads its eternal circle! going forth
Its princely way amongst the stars, in slow
And silent brightness. Mighty. one, all hail !
I joy to see thee, on thy glowing path,
Walk, like some stout and girded giant-stern,
Unwearied, resolute, whose toiling foot
Disdains to loiter on its destined way.
The other tribes forsake their midnight track,
And rest their weary orbs beneath the wave;
But thou dost never close thy burning eye,
Nor stay thy steadfast step. But on, still on,
While systems change, and suns retire, and worlds

Slumber and wake, thy ceaseless march proceeds.
The near horizon tempts to rest in vain.
Thou, faithful sentinel, dost never quit
Thy long-appointed watch; but, sleepless still,
Dost guard the fixed light of the universe,
And bid the north forever know its place.
Ages have witnessed thy devoted trust,
Unchanged, unchanging.

Ages have rolled their course, and time grown gray;
The earth has gathered to her womb again,
And yet again, the myriads that were born
Of her uncounted, unremembered tribes.
The seas have changed their beds; the eternal hills
Have stooped with age; the solid continents
Have left their banks; and man's imperial works
The toil, pride, strength of kingdoms, which have flung
Their haughty honors in the face of heaven,
As if immortal - have been swept away —
Shattered and mouldering, buried and forgot.
But time has shed no dimness on thy front,
Nor touched the firmness of thy tread; youth, strength
And beauty still are thine.
I wonder as I gaze. That stream of light,

Ι Undimmed, unquenched, -just as I see it now, Has issued from those dazzling points, through years That


back far into eternity.
Exhaustless flood! forever spent, renewed
Forever! Yea, and those refulgent drops,
Which now descend upon my


eye, Left their fair fountain twice three years ago. While those winged particles, whose speed outstrips

The flight of thought, were on their way, the earth
Compassed its tedious circuit round and round,
And in the extremes of annual change, beheld
Six autumns fade, six springs renew their bloom.
So far from earth those mighty orbs revolve !
So vast the void through which their beams descend !

And these are suns !- vast, central, living fires, Lords of dependent systems, kings of worlds That wait as satellites upon their power, And flourish in their smile. Awake, my soul, And meditate the wonder! Countless suns Blaze round thee, leading forth their countless worlds ! Worlds, in whose bosoms living things rejoice, And drink the bliss of being from the fount Of all-pervading Love.

Tell me, ye splendid orbs, as, from your throne, Ye mark the rolling provinces that own Your sway - What beings fill those bright abodes? How formed, how gifted? what their powers, their state, Their happiness, their wisdom? Do they bear The stamp of human nature ? Or has God Peopled those purer realms with lovelier forms And more celestial minds?

Open your lips, ye wonderful and fair ! Speak! speak! the mysteries of those living worlds Unfold !



Wild was the day; the wintry sea

Moaned sadly o.. New-England's strand, When first, the thoughtful and the free,

Our fathers, irod the desert land.


They little thought how pure a light,

With years, should gather round that day; How love should keep their memories bright,

How wide a realm their sons should sway. Green are their bays; but greener still

Shall round their spreading fame be wreathed, And regions, now untrod, shall thrill

With reverence when their names are breathed.

Till where the sun, with softer fires,

Looks on the vast Pacific's sleep, The children of the pilgrim sires

This hallowed day like us shall keep.



If Christianity may be said to have given a permanent elevation to woman, as an intellectual and moral being, it is as true that the present age, above all others, has given play to her genius, and taught us to reverence' its influence. It was the fashion of other times to treat the literary acquirements of the sex as starched pedantry, or vain pretension; to stigmatize them as inconsistent with those domestic affections and virtues which constitute the charm of society. We had abundant homilies read


their amiable weaknesses and sentimental delicacy, upon their timid gentleness and submissive dependence; as if to taste the fruit of knowledge were a deadly sin, and ignorance were the sole guardian of innocence.

16 Most women had no character at all, beyond that of purity and devotion to their families. Admirable as are these qualities, it seemed an abuse of the gifts of Providence to deny to mothers the power of instructing their children, to wives the privilege of sharing the intellectual pursuits of their husbands, to sisters and daughters the delight of ministering knowledge in the fireside circle, to youth and beauty the charm of refined sense, to age and infirmity the consolation of studies, which elevate the soul, and gladden the listless hours of despondency.

These things have, in a great measure, passed away, The prejudices which dishonored the sex, have yielded

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