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 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 1 2 3 
 
 4 5 6 
 
n 
 
 r 
 
 . TJ 
 
 JAMIiM. 
 

 1 6 AVR1982 
 
 DAY-DREAMS 
 
 BT A 
 
 
 .^ 
 
 .TJTTERFLt. 
 
 }^- 
 
 • ♦• 
 
 # 
 
 m NINE PARTS. 
 
 ♦>» 
 
 I'll wing me through ereation like « bee, 
 And taste the gleaming spheres. 
 
 — A. SmTB. 
 
 Shall be, 
 
 • • • 
 
 Who loved, who snibred ooontless ills, 
 Who battled for the true, the just. 
 Be blown about the desert dust. 
 
 Or sealed within the iron hUUr 
 
 —A. TmniTsoN. 
 
 »«» 
 
 KINGSTON, C. W. 
 
 JAMII M. CUMMIOKf BOOK AMU JOB raiB1IB|. BBQCK 8TBXKT. 
 
 1854 
 
n') 
 
 
 4 
 
 PBSFACE. 
 
 ..i 
 
 ,.-js.?*Mt..^»— ^-..-i.-i-.".*';;^^.^**^.-.--- 
 
 ERRATA. 
 P^ge 22.— For ^'Swan Ganoids," read— Swam Ganoids. 
 
 26.— For "Needs," read— Need. 
 
 47.— For ** Expends each white sail," read— expand^ Im. 
 
 68. — ^For " azure-dowed," read— aznre-domed. 
 
 84.— For ' Germ enshined," read— germ •|lBhrined^ 
 112.— For " sun All-raging " read— aun AU^raying. 
 121.— For "jems," read— gems. 
 140.— For "tracts" read— tracks. 
 146.— Bead "pulley and cord." 
 
 A D d"eN D a . 
 
 How much the author is indebted to Mr. George Oombe he iMTlf 
 to the intelligent reader of his influential writings to imagine. 
 
 Sir C. Lyell aays, that, in Wales, "coprolites referred to fish** 
 have been found " lower " than the Wenloch limestones of the Up« 
 ^ Silurian. How much lower he does not, I think, stats. 
 
 4. 
 
 the author — ^might oonvey a false impression or 
 even appear contradictory : and though there are 
 points on which the writer entertiuns strong opinions, 
 yet he preferi that his efforts generally should be 
 regarded as a series of questioni put to Nature 
 

 TR 
 
 
 rj^ 
 
 ^■- . 
 
 ■HC' 
 
h 
 
 PBEFAOE. 
 
 ;> 
 
 --*»»* .-1.^ 
 
 In the following pages the attention is confined 
 ezdasively to Natube. Her volome is opened 
 and she is interrogated respecting some of the 
 leading phenomena of existence. 
 
 The inquiry may be conceived to have been 
 conducted amid the fluctuations of opinion during 
 the varied stages of mental growth from youth to 
 manhood, and likewise to represent the different 
 phases of thought of more than one individual or 
 sect of thinkers; otherwise some passages — ^thoa:<h 
 not intended to represent the settled judgment of 
 the author— might convey a false impression or 
 even appear contradictory : and though there are 
 points on which the writer entertains strong opinions, 
 yet he prefers that his efforts generally should be 
 regarded as a series of questions put to Nature 
 
Ml 
 
 herself, and that a spirit of self-inquiry and inde* 
 pendence should be exercised by all in the forma> 
 tion of their opinions, selecting for themselves 
 what they believe to be most accordant vdth truth. 
 
 To some minds few subjects present more 
 interest than Geology. The different formations 
 are the different chapters of the book of Nature ; 
 the strata are the leaves, in which is written 
 authentically the wonderful history of the past. 
 On this subject, which forms a large portion of 
 the "first part" of my little volume, 1 have been 
 much indebted to one author in particular. 
 
 It may not be unprofitable to ask — ^What rela- 
 tion do I bear to the Universe? How came [ 
 here i Whither go I ? Had my existence a motive? 
 If so, what was it ? This earth, what is it ? These 
 heavens, what are they ? Myself, what am I ? How 
 constituted, how circumstanced, how actuated? 
 By this it may be seen what response, if any, reason 
 interpreting nature really does give to each. 
 Can we "hj setrebing find oat God? " 
 
^i 
 
 Commenoed as a plajiol reply to a clever and 
 amaeing little (deee written by a lady friend, on a 
 subject wholly different, it became, as it proceeded, 
 more serious. It was tfans that the <' butterfly " 
 was introduced, flitting alike through the flowers 
 of the field, the systems of the stars, or the empires 
 of mind; and, wisely or foolishly, uttering what 
 she chose. The first part was subsequently lopped 
 off, but the *' butterfly " retained. 
 
 To free, speculative minds, deeply imbued with 
 a sense of the wonderful and beautiful in nature, it 
 may afford some pleasure to look into the mysteri- 
 ous abyss of being, to speculate on Ihe future, to 
 hang dreamily over the past Oh, it is wonderful, 
 very wonderful indeed. In the light of nature, 
 being is a mystery inexpressibly grand ! 
 
 Kingston, Juns, 1854. 
 
I 
 
 r . Tin(T)i ., - .. r » vti .. m» i ■ 
 
 / 
 
 %. 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 A BuTTiBFLT, in the veiy joyousneBs of ezisteno^ dreMou of 
 prospectiye pleasures amongst the fields and flowers of natnxe. 
 (Page 7—11.) The clear blue Heavens of the silent night awaken 
 thoughts more serious. (11.) Mind and external nature are inter- 
 rogated respecting God. What is he ? What the mode of his be- 
 ing? (12 — 18.) Geology or the wonderful volume of mTsteiioua 
 pre-historic nature is opened, and some of her strangest fiusts on- 
 veiled. (18—28.) Did things observe a progress f Do new origins 
 require new direct interference ? Or are things naturally consequenti 
 and the laws of being infidlible in their execution f (26-^80) 0«r 
 solar system, how? (81.) 
 
 PART II. 
 
 The great dumb past. (88, 84.) Man viewed as an oiganind 
 being, in his individual, domestic, sodal relations. (84» 86, Ad.) 
 Self-love, affection, kindness, reverence, hope, imagination, intel- 
 lect, conscience. Their harmonious and inharmonious interaction. 
 (85—47.) The merely plausible, evanescent: the true, permaneni 
 (48.) . 
 
 PART III. 
 
 Our organization wonderAil in its details and adaptations to 
 particular ends, (49 — 62, and Appendix, 146, 147) : but fiuling as 
 B whole to achieve any grand result. (62, 68.) Has this (read by 
 the light of hope and goodness) any prospective pointi/ng$f or is 
 all to end in apparent failure? (147, 148 A 64.) 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 Why God may throw a veil of obscurity over thefiituTe (60—66) 
 liove of the true and good, the pabulum of genuine nobility of lOiiL 
 (66—60.) Thoughts on worship. (6&--«4.) 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PART 
 
 How d«ik and tauM mugiTings Arise unbidden in the eonL 
 (66-46:) Oold materielinn. Is the present the first and last act of 
 the drama of ejdsteQce. (66— -70.) Can it, tiinstit,ber (70—71.) 
 What we may know : what we know not. (71—72.) What is onr 
 goal t Has nature no fixed guiding star ! (72—78.) 
 
 part" 
 
 We know that mind is: is it equally certain that matter* is 
 (74^ 76.) Yet shall t^e conclude mind perishable, matter eternal f 
 (76.) What, if matter be merely a product of mind during the 
 doininion of the senses (76) — if from the central Sun of £^>irit the 
 miTerae is spun, a web of immaterial beings— the &r-reaching lines 
 of diTine magnetism extending to the remotest outskirts of exis- 
 tenoe, embracing and controlling alike the atom and the mass — 
 iwoe oommunicating itself to the central ruling orbs of the star-fir- 
 maments and to all particles of their rolumes— the heart-foroe, 
 through each ganglion, to the minutest portion of each nerre. 
 (77-88.) 
 
 P A b"t" V 1 1 . 
 
 Brents, in the external and internal worlds, the resnlta of ade- 
 qrnte causes. (88—91.) 
 
 PART~VIII. 
 
 Idealism. (92, 98.) Argument flrom dreams, hallneinations, 
 Illusions, Ac, biology, the phenomena of reflection (98—108), the 
 Qolonr and shape of the media of vision. (120.) How mind creates 
 bet wonders— the asure heaven with her diadem of stars painted on 
 ' the sense-retina. (104, Ao.) Lift ofMdiyersiiying herself into Urea 
 ma^y of myriad fi>rms of beaaty. (110—120.) Knowledge wiMBeaf 
 (m.) Death Awes the soul from the lordship of the senses. ' 
 
 part" IX. 
 
 No Space. (126—126.) No Time. Past, Piesent» Fntiiie,eiea- 
 twea of the senses. (126.) How oonoeiTed. (120^182.) Oonolu- 
 ■ton of Idealism. (182—184) 
 
 ■ " ■ , .. . 1 1 
 
 * Idaaliam, ae a aystem of phUoaophy, in its hmifmA' oi' Itt- 
 vortdl^ and generally, poetiiedr ^ 
 
IM lOIlL 
 
 atMtoT 
 
 ;7a-n.) 
 
 A is our 
 
 atter* is 
 etenialt 
 iring the 
 
 ling lines 
 sof ezis- 
 liemsMir— 
 lieBtar>flr- 
 Bsri-foroe, 
 ich nerre. 
 
 Its of ade- 
 
 lolnstioiis, 
 -108), tae 
 ndcreetes 
 peintedon 
 fintoIlTM 
 
 .) Ooneln- 
 
 DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 PART I 
 
 fm^^^0^0*^t^ M ^ 
 
 " Let Qi (since life can little more supply, 
 Than just to look about us and to die) 
 Expatiate free o'er «U this Kene of man." 
 
 A Butterfly bright, • 
 From grey morn till night, 
 
 On pinions of Fancy I'll fly, 
 With wings, oh how soft, 
 I'll be borne aloft. 
 
 Beneath the blue-canopied sky. 
 
8 
 
 DAY-DBBAUS. 
 
 And in sunny dell, 
 m kiss the gay bell 
 
 Of foxglove and cowslip of gold ; 
 The honey TU sip y 
 
 From each fragrant lip, 
 
 Whose beauty soft sunbeams unfold. 
 
 And when I would drink, 
 I'll light by the brink 
 
 Of the crystal and sunlit spring ; 
 Or the pearl 111 seek 
 On the moss-rose cheek, 
 
 And rival its hues with my wing. 
 
 Gay creature of air. 
 
 Without fear or care, •* ' 
 
 I'll roam through wide nature's domains; 
 The blue sky above. 
 My heart full of love, 
 
 m list to the lark's glowing strains. 
 
i 
 
 For song— gift of Heaven— 
 To us has been given 
 
 To gladden the sou)^ to express 
 The holy demand 
 Of nature, God-planned, 
 
 That blessed ourselves, we too bless. 
 
 And, in noontide heat, 
 I'll bathe my soft feet 
 
 In the spray of the bubbling stream : 
 I'll spread my gay wings 
 O'er all beautiful things, 
 
 And only of happiness dream. 
 
 9 
 
 .'•- jt. , 
 
 A 
 
 -I, Ul 
 •)'» «1 ft 
 
 And in grassy glade, . ./^ 
 I'll seek the soft shade 
 
 Of the myrtle and woodbine twined, 
 And where violets sweet 
 With the primrose meet. 
 
 And mingle their odors combined. 
 
10 
 
 DAT-DBIAX8. 
 
 And when evening grey 
 Shuts the' eye of the day, 
 
 I'll hie to the jessamine bower, 
 And seek sweet repose 
 On the moss-clad rose, / .^ .^ ^i. -^ 
 
 And enjoy the cool twilight hour. 
 
 N ■ 
 
 Or the lamp of night, - ^^ \ 
 
 With its dreamy light, 
 
 I'll watch from my pillow of leaves, 
 And the firefly's play 
 
 By the pale moon's ray, [heaves. 
 
 ' Till my breast with new transport 
 
 And when morning bright, . * 
 In mantle of light. 
 
 Hath lifted night's curtain of cloud, 
 I'll hasten away • ' < v ;^ u '^ 
 
 To sport in the spray * ' • 
 
 Of the cataract roaring loud. ' A 
 
 ■ r*4 
 
 n 
 
■ ••I 
 
 DAY-DBEAMS. 
 
 l^ 
 
 ♦■-V'-'**^' 
 
 11 
 
 .•^^" 
 
 Or Silence and Night, f ?> 
 Their empire unite, 
 
 And hold uncontested domain, 
 I'll count the bright stars, - 
 Fair Venus and Mars, 
 
 The Pleiads, Orion, the Wain. 
 
 And when every breath • ' "• 
 
 In silence like death 
 
 Is hushed, and the darkness still gains, 
 ril think of the hands v "^ 
 
 Which marshalled their bands 
 
 O'er Heaven's unlimited plains. 
 
 For the clear, deep blue ^ 
 
 With its crystal dew, ^^ 
 
 —Pearls dropt from the eyelids of night— 
 And silence which seems . r 
 
 Like eloquent dreams, , v 
 
 To thoughts deep and solemn invite. 
 
M 
 
 DAlr»DBBAMS. 
 
 '7w HAT art thon, Lord, 
 By whose forming word 
 
 The vast panorama arose, 
 Whose pillars sustain 
 The great starry frame, 
 
 And whose arms all natnre enclose. 
 
 ^- ,':^tsr^'^-l ^ 
 
 ir-- * 
 
 t 
 
 What art thou ? Pure Mind ? [ ^^■^^' ' 
 Thy footprints to find " ' 
 
 We seem, through life's varied domain, 
 In heart, brain, and eye 
 Of bird, fish, or fly. 
 
 Or man, the last link of her chain. 
 
 But these are not thou? 
 Great God, when and how 
 
 Shall thy creatures thee leaxn to know ; 
 Thy thoughts and thy mind. 
 Not earth, ocean, wind. 
 
 The garments* of Godhead below, 
 
 *App«D(Uz A 
 
f . ., 
 
 DAT-DBBAMS. 
 
 13 
 
 ''f 
 
 In this world terrene, 
 A mere speck, nnseen 
 
 From a star in the milky way : 
 A hem of thy robe 
 Is this nether globe. 
 
 The abode of the sons of clay. 
 
 y^ In the starlit sky. 
 Thou art surely nigh, 
 
 'Mid the glittering hosts of Heaven 
 In yon blue expanse, 
 - Where bright Seraphs dance. 
 
 The privilege high must be given, 
 
 J 
 
 Iknow ; 
 
 Iw, 
 
 To behold thy face. 
 In that glorious place. 
 
 Where the Cherubim veil their eyes 
 From tha dazzling light 
 Of the star-lamps bright, 
 
 Which light up their paths thro' the skies. 
 
 B 
 
14 
 
 DrJkiT-]>BXAX&« 
 
 Or are stars the gems 
 Of the diadems 
 
 Of bright brilliaats, that Angels wear. 
 When, through systems above, 
 Thy behests of love 
 
 From Empire to Empire they bear ? 
 
 ■%■ 
 
 Or are they the seams, ; r#v^^^ - 
 Through which glory gleams 
 
 From the spirit-trod floor of Heaven? 
 Or some eyelets bright. 
 In thy robe of night, 
 
 In mercy to mortals given ? 
 
 ^^C 
 
 Or live we in thee 
 
 And move? Life's great sea, ^^ 
 
 A wave of thy being, roll on? 
 Do the stars sweep through 
 The unbounded blue, 
 
 The sointik of thought from its throne ? 
 
 ■w. 
 
DAT^I>BrJBAHB. 
 
 jar. 
 
 r? 
 
 In tlie flower and snow 
 Dost thon bud and glow? 
 
 Dost throb in our innermost heart? 
 Alike in the tree 
 As the galaxy, 
 
 Of thy being each atom a part? 
 
 
 ,ven? 
 
 Are the storm and flood v a f > -^^ v 
 The palace of God, • 
 
 And rides He on the hurricane's wings, 
 In the thunder's roar. 
 In the earthquake's power, v% ^ M M 
 
 On all fearful and awful things ? 
 
 ■'■ft 
 
 Irone? 
 
 Or in sunshine or calm x-m ^-w ^.v 
 Dwells the great "I am," 
 
 In the breathings of infant love, 
 In the purling stream. 
 In the Poet's dream, 
 1- On this earth, as in Heia;i7en above ? 
 
1« 
 
 .BAY^DBBI^KS. 
 
 Is his throne, then, here? 
 
 It is every where : - Cf 
 
 His palace is the boundless space : 
 He lives in the wind, 
 In the lofty mind, / tx! wk 
 
 Here, in Heaven, in every place. 
 
 t 
 
 In the Earth's gyrations, A 
 
 In the heart's pulsations, * ; .^ i '^ * » ^t! 
 
 In hopes which crimson on the cheek, 
 In the throbbing brain, r . ' i : ^ ^ ^ 
 In the wind-lashed main, ; i 
 
 In sunny vale and cloud-capped peak. 
 
 In the rainbow's hues, ^.v -t^ v ^ 
 
 In the pearly dews, ' j ^} 
 
 In the tears of the weeping sky, ' 
 In empires and states, .t 
 In senates' debates, v 
 
 In all things— far, near, deep, low, high. 
 
DAT-DBBAKB. 
 
 
 . t' 
 
 ..i^ A 
 
 From Jupiter's rings 
 To those hidden springs, 
 
 Which govern all matter, hearty mind; 
 From the star-thronged deep 
 To the things that creep 
 
 Through stone-pores, his spirit we find. 
 
 ■'\ 
 
 leak. 
 
 Or is there a throne, • 
 
 The great spirit's own. 
 
 In a palace of pearly light, '^ 
 Where, through fretted aisles, 
 A radiance soft smiles, ^ >^. i « 
 
 And glory and beauty unite? 
 
 
 
 high. 
 
 And dwells he alone v - - 
 
 On that sapphire throne. 
 
 In halls tenantless, noiseless, vast, 
 Where no echo wakes. 
 And no footfall breaks, ' - ^ 
 
 A silence doomed ever to last ? 
 
 B* 
 
18 
 
 BiLT-DBEAMd. 
 
 Or do beings bright "' 
 
 As the stars at night, 
 
 Of kingly tread and lofty mien, 
 Robed in woof of gold, 
 Their high converse hold, *• T 
 
 With minds profound and souls serene. 
 
 And beneath the throne :; y ' 
 
 Of the Eternal one, i #r ■ t^r mil 
 
 Reason they of goodness and right ; 
 And then pours along . .^, : j ,..1:3 a Vt 
 The full thrilling song, / 
 
 Like a flood of all-glorious light? 
 
 And motives and laws, q :» > . * 
 
 The end, means, and cause : , j%<? 
 
 Of matter, mind, duty or will,i r> 
 Are the golden themes, ari v > ■ mi W 
 Which gild their day-dreams, ^ -^ « [fill? 
 
 And their souls with rich knowledge 
 
DAT-DBBAXB. 
 
 19 
 
 ^ 
 
 rene. 
 
 Or liie they afar 
 To some distant star, 
 
 On the untrod ontskirts of space, 
 Its people to learn, 
 Its genius discern, 
 
 And annals and origin trace ? - 
 
 -"T 
 
 ht; 
 
 The bent of the mind, ♦ -'^f ^ > <>^". ^ 
 For what end designed, 
 
 What course they have hitherto trod, 
 What link they attain 
 In the golden chain, • - - . 
 ^ Which ascends to the throne of God ? 
 
 What its rank and age, ■^■'^^^^■^•<.^',UOiu-mM- 
 In the' historic page ^ 
 
 Of great Nature's volume of truth, 
 Who her annals writes ^ " ■ 
 With coprolites, ^ ■ -#^^ iW ' . [tooth. 
 
 The mammoth's bones, and saurian'& 
 
20 
 
 DAT-DRBAM8. 
 
 And on rocks and cliffs, i / 
 
 In hieroglyphs, y^r ,^f & j.*h al^' 
 
 The dark sphynx-enigma engraves; 
 On the dust we tread, . C 
 
 On the giant dead, • ■( 
 
 Submerged by old time's rushing waves. 
 
 She tells too of throes 
 Of nature; of foes 
 
 To piscine and animal life: 
 The' Ichthyosaur's sight* 
 Her record of light ; 
 
 And its food, of death, pain, and strife. 
 
 Each tooth, foot-print, bone. 
 Now bedded in stone, 
 
 Marks eras: the fragments of lime, 
 Red sandstone or shale. 
 In mountain or vale, 
 c Tell the story of ancient time, v 
 
 *lpp«ndlx B. 
 
fv-if ;^ 
 
 DAT-DRBAMS. 
 
 21 
 
 Of monsters of old, 
 That in slimebeds rolled. 
 
 Or trailed their huge length on the bank 
 Of silvery lake, .^f .- v , ., 
 
 Or slept in green brake 
 
 Of giant fern, 'mid herbage rank. 
 
 How the' Ichthyosaur i * I 
 
 And Plesiosaur 
 
 — ^Fearful creatures of giant make — 
 The' Iguanodon ^ > 
 
 Huge, and Mastodon [lake. 
 
 Roamed lord-like o'er field, swamp and 
 
 How strange,* monstrous things, 
 
 With leathery wings, [claws, 
 
 Great eyes, serpent's teeth and long 
 In the twilight grey. 
 Seized their hapless prey, [ed jaws. 
 
 And craunched them with reptile-shap- 
 
 •AppiBdU 0. 
 
1t2 
 
 BAY- DREADS. 
 
 We, things of to-day, 
 
 Were unknown, when they^ * J^ if ?'^ 
 
 — Co-evals of mountains, lakes, eeas,- 
 Were warmed *neath a sky, 
 Where mozambiques fly, i * 
 
 And fanned by a tropical breeze. 
 
 Oh ages bygone. 
 Since a glorious sun, 
 
 With a flood of new heaven-born light, 
 Poured his golden rays 
 On those coral bays, 
 
 Early homes of the Ammonite ! 
 
 When, in burnished gold. 
 Swan Ganoids of old. 
 
 And Sauroids of terrible name ; 
 When the' Ammonite sailed, ^ 
 
 And Trilobite failed,* • 
 
 Where was man^ his work or his fame ? 
 
 ^Appndbi D. 
 
DAT-DBBAMS. 
 
 23 
 
 Bas,- 
 
 ; 
 
 Ere through sea-depths, rife i=' fy >r 
 With animal life, 
 
 ^ The Zoophyte piled up the lime. 
 And the coral isle r ^ 
 
 First began to smile, 
 
 On the childhood of new-bom Time : 
 
 n light, 
 
 For, is it not true, 
 
 That yon limestone blue, • [tread, 
 
 The chalk fields flint- veined, which we 
 On the mountains steep, - ■ - > 
 
 In the valleys deep, ^ • 
 
 Are the skeletons of the dead. 
 
 lis 
 
 When the fucoid first, 
 And Zoophyte, burst 
 
 The pale death-prison of the deep : 
 When brute matter broke 
 Into life, and woke , . 
 
 . From a night of eternal sleep. 
 
 * i 
 
3t 
 
 DAT-DBBAHa. 
 
 t 'M I'l-. ' 
 
 }T 
 
 Or when creatures-Hiiew '^■ 
 To the then world — flew, 
 
 The first time, o'er mountain, lake, field. 
 When Mammifers trod 
 On Earth's verdant sod, [yield. 
 
 Whilst the' old to new forms of life 
 
 Did God interfere 
 In this nether sphere. 
 
 And by direct fiat create. 
 From the' unconscious dust, 
 — ^Mere metallic rust — 
 
 The life of the first radiate ? 
 
 Or, in Nature's laws. 
 Find we ample cause 
 
 For phenomena new and strange ? 
 Did He all forsee 
 From eternity, 
 
 And cause folding sequence arrange ? 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 25: 
 
 , field, 
 
 [yield, 
 of life 
 
 The butterfly bright, ' . i. i^^I 1 1^-^ '^ 
 
 So sylph-like and light, iy' i ^..^ 
 
 Was a chrysalis last month's moon ; 
 Was *a worm last spring, . - . > » <i 
 
 Without horn or wing ; ,^ [noon. 
 
 An egg, ere this, hatched by warm 
 
 The change seems as great — 
 
 From each former state. 
 
 Though resulting from natural laws, 
 As any we know 
 In the depths below. 
 
 Which assumes intervening cause. 
 
 J 
 
 A cycle of earth 
 
 Suffices for birth 
 
 Of Butterfly, child of a day : 
 
 What changes appear 
 
 In an astral year. 
 
 Time's chronicle only can say. 
 . 
 
 '/k 
 
 f i 
 
2% 
 
 PAT-2)£SAttS, 
 
 The planets roll on i-^-- 
 
 Round the' encircled sun, ^ 
 
 By centrifiigal force impelled, ^> 
 Nor wander through space, ^ ■• - 
 In their ceaseless race, ^ 
 
 r To their orbits by gravity held. 
 
 \5i'« 
 
 J < 
 
 The law once impressed 
 On matter, the rest 
 
 Thence follows by natural course : 
 Earth's changes to suit. 
 The life-parent root 
 
 Expands with new germinal force. 
 
 The will of the' All-wise* 
 Is writ on the skies ; 
 
 His language is Nature's fixed laws, 
 Which, through time and space, 
 Comprising each case, 
 
 Needs no intercalary clause. 
 
 * Appendix E. 
 
P:AT-^J>ltS4.1ia. 
 
 n 
 
 But we deem there's much, < ^ ^ 
 
 In such cases, which ^ ' : - 
 
 ; No general law can ezplaiik 
 Because they are few, r ; ^ 
 
 Strange, startling and new, 
 
 To us they seem brea»ks in life's chain. 
 
 
 Time's clock seconds notes, - .1 
 The minutes too quotes, 
 
 But how can it strike the long hours ? 
 To like like succeeds, - 
 
 But time new forms needs, , " j i 
 
 To gender such life has she powers? 
 
 f.i y 
 
 :■•.> 
 
 A wondrous machine* . ' 
 
 Constructed has been, . $ ,, 
 
 To calculate problems severe ; 
 By units it counts, ' • . ^ \ 
 
 To millions it mounts, r «-/ 
 
 Till each future movement seems clear: 
 
 * Appendix F. 
 

 ;, 
 
 i! 
 
 28 
 
 I^AY'DiLErAUd. 
 
 
 When no more it creeps 
 
 By units, but leaps -- --' f'^^i-> -- -'- -^ 
 
 Over hundreds with nervous bound ; 
 Then returns with force 
 To its wonted course, "^ 
 
 But again deserts its old ground. 
 
 Such inconstancy . 
 
 Oft repeated, we ■ - --' 
 
 Suspect intervention or flaw : 
 Yet 'tis the result, . . 
 
 Albeit occult. 
 
 Of higher conception and law. 
 
 It may be that He — 
 
 Who by gravity ^ 
 
 Props the star-studded dome of Heaven, 
 Pumps the crystal dew 
 Into hare-bells blue — 
 
 To nature the license had given, 
 
DAY-I)BBAlt8» 
 
 
 .;.M';i- 
 
 ound; 
 
 id. 
 
 Not only to plod '- <- ' ■ 
 On her path oft trod, 
 
 But to traverse new kingdoms untold ; 
 Her Dodos to kill, * . 
 
 And their places fill > 
 
 ' With creatures of different mould ! 
 
 It may be that He 
 From eternity 
 
 Stamped on matter the parent type, 
 Whence all life expands. 
 As progress demands 
 
 The soft germ, rich blossom, fruit ripe. 
 
 Heaven, 
 
 n. 
 
 At time's natal hour. 
 
 When earthquake's fierce power 
 
 Tore piecemeal the newly-formed earth. 
 On land or in sea. 
 To fish, beast or tree, 
 
 Nature had not as yet given birth. 
 
 0* 
 
n 
 
 30 
 
 DAY-DBE^AMS. 
 
 For the nurseling, Life, 
 
 'Mid the deadly strife ^ ^ 
 
 f ' Of fierce, elemental ire, 
 Could find no safe Ark, t ■ 
 In which to embark, ^^ 
 
 On an ocean of liquid fire. 
 
 ■■;=? 
 
 
 ..A 
 
 k '^ iii-'./'. '^■ 
 
 But when the cooled globe, 
 Wrapped in warm sea-robe, 
 
 Thin crystalline structure assumed, 
 Simple life-forms new ' ■ 
 Through ocean beds grew, 
 , And lily-shaped Encrinites bloomed. 
 
 But progress inspires r>^ ■ 
 
 New wants, and requires ^ ' 
 
 Complex beings of nobler grade ; 
 Then fish, beast, bird, man 
 Appear on life's plan,* / i • 
 
 In the councils of Deity laid. 
 
 * Appendix O. 
 

 :. 'I 
 
 ,Vi j'.f '*'>*■'•-• 
 
 DAY-DBEAirS. 
 
 What too, if the Earth 
 A natural birth ^ 
 
 Had, in the dark womb of the past : 
 The moon from earth sprung : 
 The earth, fi-om the sun ; 
 
 The sun, from a nebula vast, 
 
 31 
 
 i- 
 
 •i \J 
 
 : r 
 
 med, 
 
 )med. 
 
 Whose currents, set in ^ " ' 
 From opposites, spin 
 
 The mass into embryo stars, 
 Whose sun-bulks embrace 
 The whole orbit-space ^ [Mars. 
 
 Of some Jove, now of scanter-pathed 
 
 And thus, on the page 
 Of Time, hint the age 
 
 Successive,* at which they withdrew, 
 Henceforward alone, 
 In orbits their own, 
 
 To roam through the infinite blue. 
 
 * Appendix a. 
 
ill 
 
 32 
 
 DAT-DBEAH8. 
 
 As time's backward course > '' 
 
 We trace, toward its source, 
 
 We more or less dimly descry, 
 By lightstreaks, that flit 
 O'er mountains sunlit, 
 
 The shores and the pole star on high. 
 
 When further we sail. 
 Our lights seem to fail. 
 
 And we drift on a shoreless sea. 
 Where, through the domains 
 Of night, silence reigns, 
 ■^ Through a boundless eternity. 
 
 lia 
 
PAT-DREAMS. 
 
 33 
 
 n high. 
 
 T 
 
 
 PABT II. 
 
 '■ , ,! 
 
 U if I. 
 
 '\ ■ ■'■ -'■■!' -t'''"' 
 
 A being darkly wiao. 
 
 — Popi. 
 
 
 Down in the dim, deep 
 Eternity, sleep 
 
 ^ Speechless ages, whose silence speaks 
 Thoughts pregnant of things 
 To the soul, and rings 
 
 Deep as thunder on Alpine peaks. 
 
 man, hast thou heard , . , 
 
 Oft, music or word 
 
 Softer, sweeter than that which fiUa ^ 
 
i 
 
 -r- 
 
 u 
 
 DAT-DREAMB. 
 
 The soul, like the deep, 
 Rich echoes, that sweep 
 
 O'er eternity's voiceless hills? 
 
 Doth thy breast not glow. 
 With yearning to know 
 
 The state, shape, cause, motive of things: 
 Thy spirit to steep 
 In the awful deep. 
 
 And truth drink at being's pure springs ? 
 
 As we firmly hold 
 To the dogma bold. 
 
 That matter, if such, has aye been : 
 So that it will be 
 To eternity. 
 
 By the' optics of reason is seen. 
 
 Jk. 
 
1>AY'DBBAMS. 
 
 3d 
 
 This matter disposed 
 Thus, God-head proposed 
 
 To mould into organized form, 
 With life, feeling, mind. 
 Heart, passions, combined 
 
 With conscience, hopes, sentiments warm. 
 
 By primitive law, 
 These adversely draw. 
 
 Maintaining a state of unrest : 
 Some principles tend 
 To self, their sole end, 
 
 . ^^^ quantum of good the sole test 
 
 Some our children guard ; 
 Their simple rewai-d, 
 
 ^ T^^e good they to others create: 
 Tis seen by the sigh. 
 
 By love's kindling eye. 
 
 The strength ofthe passion how great? 
 
DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 
 Some noble employ, 
 
 Seek, free from alloy, ^ 
 
 In benevolent deeds of love ; 
 Where fiercest seas roll ' ' 
 With blind uncontrol. 
 
 Pleads loudest the souVs gentle dove. 
 
 And reverence dwells, 
 In man, and compels 
 
 Respect for the good and the true : 
 Its purpose designed 
 To hallow the mind. 
 
 And soul with true worship imbue. 
 
 For greatness and good 
 Are streamlets from God, 
 
 Living fountain from whom they flow : 
 
 Their substance enshrined 
 
 In Deity's mind, 
 
 : Man's goodness his shadow below. 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 3t 
 
 dove. 
 
 And Hope paints the high, 
 
 Clear, blue, bending sky, ' 'T 
 
 In dreamlight of beauty her own ; 
 Enrobes Earth's wide scene 
 In mantle of green, ; 
 
 Rayed with light from her golden sun. 
 
 
 Tie: 
 
 ►ue. 
 
 All life's a bright dreaa: 
 
 As, in sunbeams seen, ' *".. 
 
 All objects dance, glow to the sight; * . 
 So, as the rays pass . 
 
 Through phantasy's glass, ^ 
 
 Dust turns into gold in her sight 
 
 flow: 
 
 w. 
 
 The bleak mountain tops, 
 
 To her eye, are props 
 
 High as Heaven, to buttress the clouds; 
 
 The cold snow, the hoar. 
 
 Which time silvers o'er 
 
 Their brows, whom ripe glory enshrouds. 
 
 o 
 
is 
 
 DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 * ■■'"•*/' 
 
 The Kghtnings which tear 
 
 Earth's bosom, nor spare '^ 
 
 The great, or the wise, or the good ; 
 At which brave hearts quail, 
 Are, on a slight scale. 
 
 The beautiful fireworks of God. 
 
 For her Mount Blanc rears ^ ^ 
 
 Her head to the stars, 
 
 , And smiles at the lightnings below, 
 Which round her breast play, 
 And due homage pay 
 
 To the Queen of eternal snow, 
 
 Who looks down, with pride 
 Of soul, on the wide 
 
 Dominions, that outspreading lie 
 Around her proud throne. 
 Whom all freely own 
 • • The cold Queen of sublimity. * 
 
DAY-DREAHS. 
 
 39 
 
 Thus Fancy hath scope ;":^ 
 
 For conjecture ; Hope 
 
 A whole Heaven to people with bright, 
 Fair children of bliss, ; -, 
 
 Whose happy lot 'tis, 
 
 To love, trace God's works, live in light 
 
 Such sights Poesy, ,* 
 
 By Hope spurn'd, doth see. 
 
 In this ev'ry day world of time ; 
 The curtain, which hides 
 Her beauties, divides. 
 
 And shews through the rent the sublime. 
 
 But intellect scans 
 Life's problem ; demands 
 
 For ev'ry effect solid cause : 
 Cold, clear through her glass 
 As the light rays pass, 
 
 She peers into nature's i&xed laws. 
 
40 
 
 DAY-DREAIIB. 
 
 Each phenomenon, 
 
 On earth, in the sun, ' - ^^ [thne, 
 
 Through the reahns of nature, space, 
 She weighs in her scale ^^ ^ 
 
 — ^All, each in detail — -' 
 
 Wherever is rayed the divine, 
 
 Through earth, ocean, wind. 
 
 Star's orbits, man's mind, [®y®» 
 
 In grassblades, round dew-drops, the 
 In the' enigmas dark 
 Which time's annals mark. 
 
 Within her wide province all lie. 
 
 But o'er all domains • 
 
 Of mind conscience* reigns. 
 
 With authority, if not might, 
 The true, stedfast, strong. 
 Stern foe of all wrong. 
 
 And friend, though not umpire, of right. 
 
 * Appendix L 
 
^hi:'"''* 
 
 [time, 
 ore, space, 
 
 * ■■'>r,i^; 
 
 «r ..;: ,,/ 
 
 [eye, 
 tops, the 
 
 lie. 
 
 af right. 
 
 For intellect weighs 
 Each problem, and lays 
 
 _ Its decision before the mind • 
 ■lie conscience then feels 
 Its duty, and seals 
 
 With approval the conise defined. 
 
 Of public rights she, 
 
 God's faithful trustee, ■ .: 
 
 In the bosom of one man lives, 
 Another man's right 
 
 To guard Trith the might, 
 
 Which simple integrity gives. . / 
 
 Great engine and blest 
 Of good, where the test 
 
 Oftruth has been rightly applied: 
 d engine of ill 
 
 41 
 
 •»*?& 
 
 ^^f 
 
 Ji': 
 
 Dread 
 Whe 
 
 ire 
 
 False 
 
 engine 
 nerved 
 notions 
 
 bj strong will, 
 
 e'en 
 
 good men misguide. 
 
4a 
 
 DAT*DREAHS. 
 
 'W f. 
 
 She may e'en pursue 
 
 With vengeance the few, ^ ^mM 
 
 Who her dogmas refuse to obey ; 
 But, when understood, ' ' 
 
 She clings to the good. 
 
 Life's brightest and gloomiest day. 
 
 > » J.. 
 
 For conscience is blind. 
 
 And hence cannot find, • ^^^ * 
 
 Through maZes of error, her way. 
 Till intellect's light 
 Dispels the deep night. 
 
 Converting the darkness to day. 
 
 No organ of mind ^ 
 
 To vice is inclined, ^ ■. 
 
 By its simple and native bent ; 
 'Tis fixed in the brain 
 To urge or restrain, 1 * ^ \':.mi.- 
 
 For ends private or social meant 
 
J>AY-DBBAXa. 
 
 'Tis the work of God, ' ' - - ^ 
 Great author of good, 
 
 Who garnished the star-spangled sky. 
 Gave earth, sea and air 
 Their occupants fair, 
 2 And to the' light fashioned the eye 
 
 .Uvi^^^S 
 
 0.;. 
 
 Of each, by its lens . it , 
 
 Peculiar, which sends j?\/ 
 
 The light-ray to bear to the mind, 
 The knowledge of what f . ■ 
 
 Takes place in each spot . • ^iT 
 
 Of space, within limits assigned. 
 
 The being great, wise, ; : y. 
 
 Who piled up the skies, 
 
 And pillared on air the dark clouds ; 
 Who fashioned the eye ' li r 
 
 Of mammoth and fly, ... 
 
 And nature with miracle crowds. 
 
44 
 
 DAT-DBEAMS. 
 
 Is he who hath made 
 Each ganglion, thread, 
 
 And tissue, and nerve of the brain. 
 If not he, then who •*! 
 
 Into matter threw . *f 
 
 Subtile thought ? Did he access gain 
 
 To the central throne 
 Of God, there alone 
 
 The leaves of his volume to turn, . 
 And the hidden tie, 
 Which mysteriously ' - 
 
 Binds spirit and matter, to learn ? 
 
 And who formed at first 
 This nerve ? Or who durst 
 
 Ingraft so this counterfeit base 
 On the god-born brain. 
 That eflfort is vain 
 
 Its roots, stem, or branches to trace, 
 
DAT-DBEAMS. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ♦., I 
 
 ■ !^ - , ' 
 
 With the original 
 So identical, 
 
 In all that to matter pertains, ^ 
 That, through the whole course 
 Of time, its first force. 
 
 Its like to produce, still remains. 
 
 ,^r 
 
 But the unity 
 
 Of plan, which we see 
 
 Pervading the brain, as its soul, 
 Is itself alone 
 The best proof, that one 
 
 Is maker and lord of the whole. 
 
 
 /T^is true that men may 
 Right, good, truth betray. 
 
 All trusts moral, social, divine ; 
 For the selfish heart. 
 Of man's nature part. 
 
 Will with reptile vigour entwine 
 
46 
 
 DAY-BBEAMS. 
 
 Its prey, and it hold ., >' 
 
 In its serpent fold, < 
 
 And then the cold intellect send, 
 With sophistry strong. 
 In battle for wrong, 
 
 'Fore conscience its course to defend. 
 
 Or'self may absorb 
 All passions — that orb 
 
 Of darkness round which circuit all — 
 Love, hope, feeling, fear, 
 In their orbit drear. 
 
 Isolate, deaf to duty's call. 
 
 Then, as habits grow 
 
 By exercise, so ; , 
 
 Impressions repeated lose power ; 
 Thus habits of ill 
 Gain force; the bad will, 
 
 More hold, deeper roots ev'ry hour. 
 
DAT-DBBAMS. 
 
 i1 
 
 :, :i 
 
 d, 
 
 defend. 
 
 And truth's cutting blade, ' ' 
 
 That once deep wounds made, "^ "*• 
 
 f On minds newly startled by crime, 
 
 Cuts less and less deep, ' 
 
 --^ 
 As men tread the steep, ^ 
 
 And slippery sin-ways of time. 
 
 juit all — 
 
 
 But 'mid stars that peep 
 Through yon azure deep : 
 
 Mid vast systems of worlds, that throng 
 The blue fields of air, ' • '^ 
 
 Is no star world there, '^ 
 
 Where right ever triumphs o'er wrong? 
 
 )wer: 
 
 hour. 
 
 I 
 
 In man's soul inwrought 
 Are whole realms of thought, 
 
 In the progress of things unrolled ; 
 Time's favouring gale 
 Expends each white sail, g^ 
 
 And new worlds new wonders unfold. 
 
 ..-V;„: M 
 
DAT-DRBAMS. 
 
 And as knowledge grows ■ 
 
 In the soul, and flows, [streams; 
 
 Through wide nations, in broad, deep 
 Fierce monsters, which lie 
 In dark caverns, fly, y, r? ; - 
 
 Nor henceforward disturb our dreams. 
 
 For, like dew-drops caught 
 By a hoar-frost, thought 
 
 Brilliant, plausible strikes the mind; 
 But when the bright sun 
 Hath his race begun, ^ ? 
 
 No trace of its beauty we find : 
 
 But the melting power 
 Of Sol's fiercest hour 
 
 Cannot wear the firm rock of truth, 
 High as heaven, broad-based, 
 It defies the waste 
 ' Of old Time's aU-devouring tooth. 
 
DAT-DREAKS, 
 
 W 
 
 treams > 
 bd, deep 
 
 dreams. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 mind; 
 
 I: 
 
 The wish, that of the Uring whole 
 No life may fail beyond the graye,— 
 Derives it not from what we hare 
 
 The Ukest God, within the soul ? 
 
 Are Ood and nature then at strife. 
 That nature lends such evil dreams f 
 
 . — 1» HiMOUlii. 
 
 :#.r 
 
 truth) 
 
 ooth. 
 
 
 All laws seem to tend 
 To good as their end : 
 
 All contrivance-the eye, solar sphere, 
 Brain, bone, muscle, joint 
 And nerve— seems to point 
 
 To this— all to gravitate here. 
 
 ' 1 * . «A 
 
 i*A 
 
(9 
 
 DAT^DBBAKS. 
 
 How perfect the skill 
 To enable the will 
 
 To reach our frame^s sentient extreme : 
 How wondrous the art, 
 Which moulds so the heart, 
 
 That, unaided by will, the rich stream, 
 
 With its pulse beat strong. 
 Pours ever along, 
 
 Repairing, each moment, the waste 
 The system sustains : 
 
 I 
 
 The delicate veins, 
 
 *Mid network of nerves, interlaced, 
 
 I 
 
 Returning the flood 
 Of the damaged blood 
 
 To tissues so subtilely thin, , 
 That the inhaled air 
 The waste may repair, 
 
 And the blood its oft circuit begin. 
 
DAY^DBIAXB. 
 
 n 
 
 [treme: 
 
 streanif 
 
 How wondrous the eye! 
 Its sphericity, 
 
 Goats, lens, crystal humours contrived 
 To paint on the nerve, 
 Outspread to receive, '^ - ?^?«v ^ 
 
 Like a mirror, the impress derived 
 
 waste 
 
 laced, 
 
 From outward things, which ' '^'* 
 
 T^o eye doth not touch, - [convey. 
 
 Yet which, through bent lightbeams. 
 Along the live nerve, ^ , v. 
 
 Impressions that serve * 
 
 The image of things to portray. 
 
 begin. 
 
 To the indwelling mind, 
 In nerve-folds confined. 
 
 Yet scanning the infinite sky. 
 Whose bright star-lamps strew 
 The unbounded blue, * 
 
 As seen through her telescope eye. 
 
 r 
 
. - ^-^{ ^-. ; U-. »jT-ai^ X- * .— Lf i i ^mmeUJittmffaftilt^Uf 
 
 {»2 
 
 PAT-DBEAHS. 
 
 ♦---(-j.;*.: ,* 
 
 But though in detail 
 So wondrous, all fail 
 
 In grand final issue — the soul : 
 And yet, 'tis poor art 
 Which perfects the part, 
 
 But fails to accomplish a whole. 
 
 Do things hither tend ? 
 And is THicj the end, 
 
 Involved in such outlay of means ? 
 Did Godhead propose 
 No worthier close* -/- 
 
 To life's drama, than reason here gleans, 
 
 Some sheaves or rich ears, 
 Bright days, perhaps years, 
 
 To one, more; to another, less; 
 But, through her wide fields, , ;. 
 
 To no man life yields ' , 
 
 A full crop of clear happiness. , 
 
 * Appendix J. 
 
DAT-DBKAH8. 
 
 «8 
 
 "[••!'» 
 
 Who questions this truth? ^'^■ 
 Tet can the fair earth, 
 
 In springtide of beauty and song, 
 In mantle of green 
 And sunlight, serene, ^ pong 
 
 Rich, azure-dowed, balm-breath'd, be- 
 
 is? 
 
 gleans, 
 
 To failure of end. 
 Where beauties so blend. 
 
 As if this sole earth were the care 
 Undivided of God, 
 Not the Universe broad. 
 
 With its fretwork of systems up there? 
 
 ft- 
 
 Yet how brief the bliss, 
 
 Which flows from e'en this ! [care. 
 
 How frail, when gaunt want or grim 
 Doubts, fears, or disease 
 On their victims seize, 
 
 Or grief, to the depths of despair ! 
 
•mm 
 
 ?---i;- li 
 
 ^-.tj 
 
 54 PAY-DBBAMB. 
 
 But is there no spot; ^i?? > 
 
 In the infinite, 
 
 Where hope never dies in the breast : 
 No green, gladsome isle, 
 Where life's pilgrims smile^ =^ . " -^ n ' . 
 
 And charm their time-sorrows to rest? 
 
 Where, like a sweet dream^, v ; 
 
 In soft, silvery stream, ■ ^ ' [flow ; 
 
 Thoughts mellowed with peace gently 
 Now gorgeous attired . ^ 
 
 Thoughts, words half-inspired, ; 
 
 With emotion, rapt, kindling glow. 
 
 / V 
 
 f '•< 
 
 , (, 
 
 
 
 -■f - - 
 
DAT-DBBAHS. 
 
 55 
 
 .- ,V'ti' 
 
 
 PA«T IT. 
 
 ; i-' 
 
 And beeanse right in right, to follow right. 
 
 — OBXoira. 
 
 So rung my dream ; but \rhat am It 
 
 An infant crying in the night, 
 
 An infant crying for the light. 
 And with no language but a cry. 
 
 —hi MmouAM. 
 
 Were a future state . «i 
 
 So certain, that hate ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 
 Itself could not question its truth ; 
 And man's future lot, 
 The reflex of what , - ^. -^ - 
 
 His sub-lunar life imaged forth : 
 
DAT'DBEAMS. 
 
 Then might virtue be 
 Mere good policy, 
 
 A paction with Hpaven for pay : 
 Wise abstinence here, 
 For enjoyment there [weigh 
 
 — ^Due product, where fear and hope 
 
 
 This brief earthly span 
 Of the life of man, 
 
 Compared with the boundless career, 
 Disclosed to his eye 
 In eternity, 
 
 With its future perennially clear : 
 
 A tempered self-love, 
 Not greatness above 
 
 The level or thought of reward 
 — ^The homage of worth 
 At the altar of truth, 
 "^ A holy, sublime disregard 
 
DAY-DBEAHS. 
 
 Of self, such as fires 
 The soul which aspires 
 
 To virtue, because it descrit.^ 
 With childlike delight, 
 The beauty of right,* 
 
 And loves goodness in every guise. 
 
 ^7 
 
 ,;;t4'^ 
 
 The love mothers feel 
 For their children's weal. 
 
 So nobly oblivious of self. 
 Asserting its power ^ i 
 
 — ^An Eden-plucked flower — 
 
 In the breast of a Hagar or Guelph. 
 
 To seek truth, as truth, , , ^ ^• 
 
 And genuine worth, j 
 
 For itself, not because hope descries 
 The meed, is, if God ,^/^ .. 
 
 Be the' essence of good, ' 
 
 The path on whose course worship lies. 
 
 * Appendix K, 
 
 T 
 
58 
 
 DAT-DRBAlfS. 
 
 Love, like verdant spring, *■ 
 Bright, beautiful thing. 
 
 Steps forth from the winter of self; 
 Yet, like the fail dawn ' ' 
 
 On the poor man's lawn, 
 
 Is too rich to be purchased by pel£ 
 
 Pure love, like the root. 
 Exists for the fruit, 
 
 Content to lie hid from our view. 
 Beneath the cold sod : 
 The image of God, ' [through. 
 
 Who, pervading all things through and 
 
 V V 
 
 Works ever the same, * 
 
 Unheeding of blame 
 
 Or praise — ^like the stillness of night- - 
 In the untrodden waste, 
 And provinces vast 
 
 And peopled, concealed from all sight. 
 
■•f 
 
 If; 
 
 )elf. 
 
 iW, 
 
 hrough, 
 ghand 
 
 nigbtr- 
 
 allsigl^t. 
 
 DAT-DBBAXS. . &9 
 
 / Pure love is the flower, 
 
 That laughs when clouds lower, 
 
 Expecting the soft vernal rains 
 To ripen the seed, ,, - 
 
 But takes little heed 
 
 Of the ills her own beauty sustains : 
 
 Or like the fair star, ' ^^ 
 
 That shineth from far, *i^ 
 
 When all things are buried in night ; 
 But when the bright day, 5 
 
 With worthier ray, ) 
 
 Robes nature in vesture of light. 
 
 So gently retires, 
 TiU darkness requires 
 
 Her aid, when she noiselessly steals 
 Once more to her post • 
 Of duty, and lost 
 
 To all selfish interest, feels 
 
60 
 
 DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 The pure joy of love ; 
 
 But soon as, above ^^ ■ '^ ^'' ' "^ ■ 
 
 The sky verge, orbed Luna is seen, 
 She leaves night so fair, ' ' 
 
 As best, to her care. 
 
 And retires to the blue depths serene^ 
 
 But oh, can it be. 
 That the majesty 
 
 Of Heaven exults in the praise 
 Of his creatures here. 
 Or covets their prayer, 
 
 For itself;* as man loves displays. 
 
 Which flatter his pride ? 
 Is Godhead allied 
 
 To the weakness of him he hath made, 
 Or moved to do what 
 He would otherwise not. 
 
 By man's importunity swayed? *^ , 
 
 * Appendix L. 
 
DAY-DBEAUS. €1 
 
 The thing we demand ; i -^ x¥'-<- • 
 Is writ on the sand . . *f| 
 
 Or snow-drift, unless it forestall ^ 
 The action of God, ... r vJfe 
 
 On principles broad, - J 
 
 Embracing the welfare of all. 
 
 If free from regard • ^ 
 
 To self, the reward, 
 
 Which Godhead proposed, was the good, 
 Through virtue, of man, , ^ 
 
 — ^If mapped on life's plan — 
 
 Then may we with reason conclude, 
 
 That, if at our hands 
 The God-head demands 
 
 Praise, prayer, or aught else, 'tis because 
 Such claim understood 
 Subserves human good. 
 
 That key to all God-given laws. * 
 
 f 
 
62 
 
 DAY-DBEAMS. 
 
 II 
 
 ^-7^-All worship is good, ' ?/ ■; s". - j J 
 Which ministers food 
 
 To the system, ennobles the soul ; 
 To purpose adds force - : 
 
 And depth ; on the course 
 
 Of the passions exerts its control ; 
 
 Lends patience, repose, 
 
 And earnestness ; glows * ; 
 
 In the speech, on the lip, in the eye ; 
 Lifts man above earth ; 
 To time gives new worth. 
 
 Mantling life with divinity. 
 
 True worship effects 
 Man's weal, and reflects 
 
 Itself on the glass of the soul, 
 And photographs there 
 All images fair. 
 
 Without the mind's conscious control. 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 63 
 
 f) 
 
 The outflowing love, 
 
 Whose voice soars above '* - ■' 
 
 Self-interest, seeking the good 
 Of others, reacts 
 On self, and extracts ' ■- 
 
 The sweets, which blind self-love elude. 
 
 So mists, which arise 
 And drape the blue skies 
 
 In garment of manifold grace, 
 Flow hither again. 
 In soft, genial rain. 
 
 To wreathe into smiles nature's face. 
 
 But worship* is not 
 
 The words ; 'tis the thought. 
 
 The reverence mute of the soul. 
 The' Eolian's rich note. 
 By nature's hand smote. 
 
 Or ocean's long, deep, silent roll. 
 
 * Appendix M. 
 
64 
 
 DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 Or worship may be 
 A life-loyalty 
 
 To a principle, loved as a truth, 
 And hugged to the heart, 
 — ^An integral part 
 
 Of self — with the fervour of youth. ^ 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 65 
 
 -.^-i 
 
 PART V. 
 
 A cry between the silences. 
 
 — Whittier. 
 
 Who fov^ed that other influence, 
 
 That hea of inward evidence, 
 
 By which he doubta against the sense ? 
 
 — Thk Two Voicts. 
 
 Oh! mysterious mind, 
 What art thou ? Confined 
 
 In this prison house of dull clay, 
 Thou liftest thine eye, 
 With hope and a sigh 
 
 To high heaven, for one assured ray 
 
 i\ 
 
66 
 
 OAT-DBEAMS. 
 
 Of God-given light, 
 
 To illume the deep night, [tread, 
 
 When cold, feline doubt, with soft 
 And stealthy advance, 
 Displays her barbed lance, [dread ! 
 
 New-startling the soul with vague 
 
 \ Oh terrific power 
 
 / ' Of fell doubt's dark hour, [thought. 
 
 When forced, like a wedge, by strong 
 
 She sunders all ties. 
 
 As if reveries 
 
 Of child life, on brain tissue wrought ; 
 
 And forces our bark 
 Adrift, on the dark. 
 
 Stormy, foam- crested depths to roll, 
 With few gleams of light. 
 Athwart the' deep night, 
 
 Faintly indexing some dim goal, 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 If goal that may be, •" 
 
 Which no eye can see, • - 
 
 By visual power to man given ; 
 Where all efforts fail 
 To pierce the deep veil [ven. 
 
 Of darkness, which curtains whole Hea- 
 
 Great God, what's the end 
 Of all? Whither tend 
 
 This being and system of things ? 
 Is life a mere breath 
 — No more — and doth death, 
 
 With withering touch, sere the wings 
 
 Of hope ? And the grave 
 His dark banner wave 
 
 O'er life, and arc all things forgot — 
 Hopes, purposes, fears, 
 Joy, laughter, and tears. 
 
 Past all, as if things that were not ? 
 
.rtT 
 
 68 
 
 ■'mm' 
 
 DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 In the abyss of time, 
 Engulphed the sublime 
 
 And soaring ambitions of earth, 
 And life's prudent schemes ; 
 And Hope's golden dreams ; 
 
 Thoughts base, or of generous worth ? 
 
 And doth the cold grave 
 Close over the knave. 
 
 The good, and the wise, and the great 
 Alike ; and time's flood, 
 By fiat of God, 
 
 Whelm all, by one horrible fate, 
 
 In the dreary sea 
 Of nonentity, 
 
 In the silence of dreamless night. 
 Where the dullard ear 
 Of death doth not hear, 
 
 And each clay-cold orb, reft of sight, 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 Is a mere earth's dust, 
 In the wreck and rust 
 
 Of all earthly and astral things ; 
 And, they sparkle not 
 With life's glowing thought ; 
 
 For Hope never touches the strings 
 
 69 
 
 ../■vll 
 
 Of the human lyre ; 
 And the lambent fire 
 
 Of fancy enkindles no flame ; 
 But rank weeds, and cold, 
 Earthy-smelling mould 
 
 The fierce triumph of death proclaim. 
 
 And the worms, that crawl 
 
 Through that vacant hall, [supreme. 
 
 Where thought once enthroned sat 
 Their evidence bear, 
 That the dust down there 
 
 Is disturbed by no Memory's dream : 
 

 DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 And the mould that falls 
 From the crumbling walls 
 
 Of this masonry — ^work of God — 
 Seems mere vulgar earth 
 Void of judgment, worth, 
 
 Or spirit — a plain common clod. 
 
 But oh, can it be, 
 That eternally 
 
 The great human spirit, oppressed 
 By the passive might 
 Of cold, starless night, 
 
 Shall in the dark sepulchre rest ; 
 
 And no more look on 
 
 The great glorious sun, [grew, 
 
 Or this earth, where fond memories 
 Or the stars at night, 
 So serene and bright, 
 
 In their depths of perennial blue? 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 71 
 
 L 
 
 And yet, if time must 
 This vitalized dust, 
 
 By affinity's laws, dissolve : 
 Must death too control 
 The great moving soul, 
 
 And mind — the great problem — ^resolve. 
 
 sssed 
 
 st; 
 
 As tho' a result. 
 By process occult. 
 
 Of matter, the all-parent root. 
 From which subtile thought, 
 Hopes, memories fraught 
 
 With sorrows or joys, upward shoot. 
 
 [grew, 
 memories 
 
 )lue? 
 
 The thing that we are 
 We know not : the far. 
 
 The wondrous, the high, the profound 
 We reach ; but the mind, 
 The essence enshrined 
 
 Within us, what plummet can sound ! 
 
DAY-DBEAMS. 
 
 All physical things, - >' 
 
 Their wheels, movements, springs, 
 
 We grasp — all mechanical skill ; 
 The laws, whose combined 
 Force regulates mind ; 
 
 The motives, which underlie will, 
 
 And shape the career 
 Of Peasant and Peer, 
 
 For good or for ill, as the soul — 
 Strong, weak, coarse, refined 
 By birth — is inclined. 
 
 And bent by time's iron control. 
 
 On the boundless sea 
 Of eternity. 
 
 The frail bark of our life appears, 
 But WHERE are we : what 
 Our heaven doomed lot, [fears. 
 
 The END of those griefs, joys, hopes, 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 ?ill, 
 
 a— 
 
 rol. 
 
 lears, 
 
 [fears. 
 lys, hopes, 
 
 Do they all end here ? 
 To this nether sphere 
 
 Are we chained — to this Titan's rock? 
 Is this wondrous life, 
 With thoughts earnest rife, [mock? 
 
 A thing doomed but high hopes to 
 
 Is there no lone star 
 In the distant far, 
 
 'Mid yon boundless blue, to man given, 
 By whose clear, fixed ray, 
 To steer his dark way, 
 
 And pilot his vessel toward heaven ? 
 
 In the God-formed plan 
 
 Doth no rainbow span 
 
 The broad ocean, which separates time 
 
 From eternity : 
 
 Is all shoreless sea, 
 
 Ceaseless, fathomless, pathless, sublime ? 
 
 G 
 
 
rr 
 
 I i 
 
 DAY-D&KAMS. 
 
 PART VI. 
 
 In Being's floods, in Action's storm, 
 
 I walk and work in endless motion, 
 
 Birth and death an infinite ocean, 
 
 A constant weaving 
 
 With change still rife, 
 
 A restless heaving 
 
 A glowing life. 
 
 Thus time's whizzing loom unceasing 1 plj. 
 
 And weave the life-garment of Diety. 
 
 — GOBTHX. 
 
 That mind is, we know : 
 In this faith we grow, 
 
 As the opening thoughts expand; 
 The child, youth and man 
 Of deep science can 
 
 All on this solid platform stand. 
 
DAY-DBEAMS. 
 
 But is it SO plain 
 
 Of proof, that the brain, 
 
 In whose magical folds confined 
 Thought lives, as in wire 
 Electric winged fire. 
 
 Exists independent of mind. 
 
 75 
 
 [OBTHB« 
 
 Yet shall we conclude 
 
 That matter, which — viewed 
 
 By reason — seems muffled in night. 
 Eternal shall be, 
 Whilst mind — the true we — 
 
 In the dimness of matter more bright. 
 
 fpand: 
 
 Is destined no more 
 On Hope's wings to soar 
 
 — Once passed the time-empire of sight— 
 A star, that erst shone 
 Its brief hour, hence gone, 
 
 Snuflfed out into uttermost night. 
 
I 
 
 76 
 
 DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 And as the sweet scent, *?^ v^f • >' -' ^*tt^l 
 In a rosebud pent, - '"^^ 
 
 Exhales and is lost on the blast. 
 So, when this poor guise . ^ . ^ ^'^ 
 
 Is withered, thought dies, v; 
 
 A wreck on the shores of the past. 
 
 I 
 
 But what, if the mind, 
 
 By law sense-confined, ' 
 
 In time, 'neath this stratum of stars, 
 Secretes by her spell 
 This fair, wondrous shell 
 
 Self substanced, till, bursting the bars 
 
 Of Chrysalis time, - ' 
 
 Free, joyous, sublime, . pight, 
 
 She mounts the blue space, winged with 
 Where, deep in the soul, ' A 
 
 Is mirrored the whole, ) i --i 
 
 As in a calm lake the pure night, 
 
DAT-DBEAHS. 
 
 w 
 
 With each starry gem 
 
 Of her diadem, if ' t ^ 
 
 Shining up through the blue serene ; 
 Whilst the moon so fair, > * 
 In the depths down there, ^ 
 
 Rides through her domains like a queen. 
 
 ;;iV-r" 
 
 And what, if the whole '^ 
 
 Are things of the soul, [nished skies, 
 
 This frame, earth, bright moon, gar- 
 If, from the ejreat sun 
 Of Spirit, are spun *•' 
 
 All systems, which gravity ties 
 
 ; •/.' 
 
 To their focal source, 
 By a hidden force 
 
 Mysterious, dynamic, unknown — 
 A power that controls 
 Each orb as it rolls. 
 
 And links to the great central throne 
 
 0* 
 
 
I 
 
 H 
 
 i! ;i 
 
 i . 
 
 \. 
 
 78 
 
 DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 All seen and unseen; 
 What is, what has been ; 
 
 The voids which all being embrace : 
 The cold stars on high ; 
 The deep earth-born sigh ; [space. ' 
 
 The pulses, which throb through all 
 
 Each magnetic thread 
 Of the nerve- web, spread 
 
 Throughout the wide system of things ; 
 Life, force rushing on 
 Through each ganglion, 
 
 Star-centres of vast astral rings ; 
 
 Whence filaments, spun 
 Reticulate, run. 
 
 Embracing all systems of space — 
 Now, the dew-drop soft ; 
 Now, the star aloft ; 
 
 Each special, each general case. 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 79 
 
 The grass blade scarce seen 
 
 In its sheath of green, [fanned, 
 
 The rose-leaf, by morning's breath 
 Are spun in one woof 
 With the starlit roof 
 
 Of Heaven. Each atom of sand, 
 
 Its shape, place, and course 
 Are ruled by a force 
 
 All potent, as that which controls 
 The wild storm-lashed sea. 
 In its agony, 
 
 Or earth on her planet path rolls. 
 
 When the dew-drops shine. 
 On each sunlit line 
 
 Of gossamer network, on sod 
 Of emerald green. 
 In the morning's sheen, 
 
 'Tis a miniature skywork of God. 
 
\. 
 
 \V 
 
 80 
 
 DAY-DBEAMB. 
 
 On each dew-starred thread, 
 Self substanced, self spread, 
 
 Arachne the slightest touch feels ; 
 On Heaven built lines, 
 To suit her designs, 
 
 The shock travels on lightning wheels. 
 
 l:ii 
 
 t' ! >.' 
 
 Thu3, back to the Brain 
 Of Being, may pain. 
 
 Pleasure, evil and good, be conveyed ; 
 And, writ in the broad 
 Time's annals of God, 
 
 'Mongst the archives of Heaven belaid. 
 
 With his countless waves. 
 Time's great ocean laves 
 
 The vast shores of remotest space. 
 And with careless hand, 
 On the shifting sand, 
 
 Graves the history of each race. 
 
DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 81 
 
 The Lily, fair queen, 
 From her couch of green, 
 
 Floats on the blue wave, like a swan^ 
 Nor seems she to grow 
 From the depths below. 
 
 But free on the surge. So the wan, 
 
 Fair child of the sun. 
 
 Like a vestal nun, [sky, 
 
 Chaste Luiia rides tlirough the flecked 
 Unchecked, uncoiifined, 
 As, rayed from the mind, 
 
 A beam of the soul's poetry. 
 
 Thus the storms, which hate, 
 Hope, fear, love, create. 
 
 Uncertain appear as the wind ; 
 So, on the light's beam, 
 The sun-mote may seem 
 
 To drift, like a dream, unconfined :* 
 
 * Appendix N. 
 
'II 
 
 \ 
 
 82 
 
 DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 Arachne how oft, 
 In the twilight soft, 
 
 Seems poised in mid air, yet some tie- 
 Holds spider, moon, mote, 
 All known, near, remote. 
 
 From mind to yon azure-domed sky. 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 The vast, pulsing heart 
 Felt through ev'ry part, 
 
 Welling life from the beating brain. 
 Forces throbbing seas 
 Through all arteries 
 
 Of the great universal frame. 
 
 The atoms that float 
 
 « 
 
 On light rays, remote 
 
 On the outskirts of being, afar 
 In those depth > of blue, 
 Feel each pulse beat true, 
 
 As night's nearest and mightiest star 
 
DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 83 
 
 PART VII. 
 
 Cause and effect, means and ends, seed and fruit, cannot be 
 severed; for the effect already blooms in the cause, the end p^ 
 exists m the means, the fruit in the seed. ^ 
 
 — EuBBSONi 
 
 In the heavens, on earth, 
 Effects owe their birth 
 
 To causes, whose sovereign sway, 
 The comet, that flies 
 Athwart the blue skies, 
 
 And mind's faintest fancies obey. 
 
I 
 
 84 DAT-DBEAHS. . 
 
 Each future result 
 To some germ occult, 
 
 In the lap of great nature sown, 
 Its parentage owes ; 
 And when the soul glows 
 
 With hopes warm, or inly we groan ; 
 
 Each throb has its cause 
 In those primary laws. 
 
 Which govern all matter, heart, mind : 
 The life, motives, will. 
 All good as all ill. 
 
 In that embryo germ enshined. 
 
 The soft blushing rose 
 From a seed-germ grows ; 
 
 Its sweet perfume, fair form, rich hues, 
 Are things in due course, 
 Where, by inborn fcrce. 
 
 The present the past but renews. 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 85 
 
 But though we may change 
 Its colors, arrange 
 
 Its leaflets, to suit some new taste : 
 Yet no special clause. 
 But broad changeless laws, 
 
 Have each hue as each form embraced. 
 
 Effects spring from cause : 
 Defects have their laws : 
 
 No lusus naturce is known : 
 From adequate force 
 All follows, of course. 
 
 The fall of a leaf or^a throne. 
 
 / 
 
 X 
 
 All true seers, who look 
 
 Into nature's book. 
 
 And study the archives of God, 
 
 In her pages see 
 
 Only harmony ; 
 
 For never, through orbit untrod, 
 
 m 
 

 '! 
 
 !;,j; 
 
 
 
 5 ,{; -w m 
 
 86 
 
 DAT-DBBAIIS^. 
 
 Shoots comet or star, 
 In defiant war 
 
 With law, the expression of cause : 
 In the statute book 
 Of whole Heaven, you look, 
 
 In vain, for exceptional clause. 
 
 In the empire of mind 
 And matter — defined 
 
 As within or without the soul — 
 Through time's rolling years. 
 No outlaw appears, 
 
 Which owns not her iron control. 
 
 Birth, death; health, decay 
 Succeed) as the day 
 
 Is followed by sable- winged night : 
 The heart-pulse, that last 
 Throbbed strong, in the past 
 
 Had its cause and time fixed, and might. 
 
DAY-DBEAVS. 
 
 The atoms that dance 
 In sunbeams ; the glance 
 
 Of rapture that beams in the eye ; 
 The thought that light strews 
 O'er life, and indues 
 
 Common things with sublir j , 
 
 87 
 
 I' m 
 
 Are fixed, as that night 
 Shall yield to the light, 
 
 When morning in glorious array, 
 And, wafted on wings 
 Of light, poeans sings 
 
 To the advent of new-born day. , 
 
 The javelin's flight 
 Depends on the might 
 
 Of the hurling force ; so the range 
 Of thought, the soul's view 
 Of being, is due 
 
 To impact on mind ; and all change 
 

 
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aa 
 
 DAT-DBEAMB. 
 
 In the astral sphere, 
 In the soul's career, 
 
 In the hue of a thought of the mind, 
 Is cause-bound, not free, 
 A necessity 
 
 On the map of all being defined. 
 
 As plants from seeds grow. 
 So like results flow 
 
 From like causes, perennially sure. 
 Men's acts are the fruit 
 Of mind the fixed root, 
 
 By circumstance fed — ^pure, impure, 
 
 Or mixed; as the blind '. *' 
 
 Desires, — ^unconfined [ed, 
 
 To the end of their being — are school- 
 'Neath proper control. 
 To act for the whole, "^^^^ • ^^ 
 
 Of which they are parts ; or misruled 
 
DAT-DBBAMS. 
 
 By notions of right, 
 Bred in the soul's night, 
 
 When duties are less understood ; 
 Or when we let free 
 One propensity, 
 
 To act for its own private good, 
 
 Devoid of regard 
 To nature's award. 
 
 The issue of good to the soul, 
 If mind, to self true ' 
 
 And all, keeps in view 
 
 The harmony of the great whole. 
 
 89 
 
 In every effect 
 Full cause we detect. 
 
 Or ought to, not greater nor less : 
 By connatal laws. 
 Surplusage of cause *^ 
 
 Must gender result in excess. I 
 
90 
 
 DAT-DBEAXS4 
 
 E'en the prayer we breathe, 
 — ^like a scented wreath 
 
 Of violets plucked in the dew — 
 Exhales from the mind — 
 — ^Wish, will, word — defined, 
 
 As deer as their petals deep bine. 
 
 All being is cause 
 
 And consequence;* laws 
 
 Are but the expression of force, 
 Propelling the sphere 
 Of light, the warm tear, 
 
 The joy-throb and pang of remorse. 
 
 Man acts not without 
 A motive ; throughout 
 
 Wide being, the stro ^st bears rule ; 
 But motives bud forth, 
 The mind's normal growth, 
 
 Developed in life's jshsping aohooL 
 
 * ApptadU 0. 
 
DAT-DR:BA1CB« M 
 
 In causation's chain, 
 Some links may remain 
 
 Unseen, thro' the mind's murky haze ; 
 Yet, subtile as air, 
 The links are all there, 
 
 Tho' concealed from our steadiest gaze. 
 
 « 
 
\ 
 
 92 
 
 DAY-DBBAMS. 
 
 :^i-^k'^fK 
 
 - t' 
 
 .-/y 
 
 .A .v;i' 
 
 PART VIII. 
 
 Are they not sonis rendered Tidble ; in bodies that took shape 
 and will lose it, melting into air. Their solid pavement is a picture 
 of the sense; they walk on the bosom of nothing, blank time ia 
 behind and before them. 
 
 •— Cabltu. 
 
 Is life, then, a dream, 
 And do things but seem. 
 
 In this world, in yon star-strewn sky 
 Is the universe, fraught , . 
 
 With wonders, inwrought 
 
 In the network of the n^ind's eye. 
 
DAY-DBBAHS. 
 
 And is mind the glass, 
 On which, by a pass 
 
 Of the great mesmerizer^s hand, 
 Is mirrored each scene, 
 Blue skies and fields green. 
 
 The wonders of air, sea, and land. 
 
 93 
 
 Then, are we not men. 
 But spirits, whose ken. 
 
 Thro' Fancy's kaleidoscope, views 
 This pageant of time, 
 Which, sad, gay, sublime. 
 
 With blossoms of beauty life strews. 
 
 ''ii' 
 
 :.^p 
 
 t..- 1:3 
 
 In dreams, we behold ^ ' 
 
 Like wonders unrolled ; 
 
 A whole fairy land, peopled with bright 
 Creations of thought. 
 By phantasy wrought, 
 
 On mind's canvass, with pencil of light. 
 
% 
 
 DAT-DBBAMB. 
 
 We ask, can it be \ 
 
 A dream, when we see,* 
 
 And handle, compare sense with sense ; . 
 Their evidence weigh, I 
 
 In this twilight grey 
 
 Of mind, with emotion intense. , 
 
 We see friends and foes: .- r ; , * f 
 The time-battle glows , ;- 
 
 With earnestness, and the full tide 
 Of manifold life 
 Pours onward ; and rife [stride, 
 
 With thoughts glowing, and bold giant 
 
 Hope, as in life's plan. 
 
 Springs on to the van, v '. . 
 
 Whilst Effort moves slow in the rear. 
 And Mind coldly weighs, 
 And Piety prays, . - • . - 
 
 And Sympathy sheds the warm tear. 
 
 ^AppeaJUz P. 
 
DAY-DRBAKS. 
 
 9$ 
 
 All so life-like seems, 
 
 And true, that those dreams 
 
 Of broad, stirring day scarce excel, 
 In painting or power. 
 The still midnight hour, 
 
 When fancy o'er mind weaves her spell. 
 
 We sorrow, joy, hope ; 
 Through mind's darkness, grope 
 
 Our way into nebulous light, 
 Or no light, or day. 
 As thought's struggling ray " 
 V Opens up the dim realms of night. 
 
 i'ri.' 
 
 -~xi 
 
 We think, will, and act, • ' 
 
 And reason from fact, [store : 
 
 Drawn from memory's long treasured 
 Nay, Time's curtain rend. 
 By mind's force, and wend 
 
 Our way to eternityls shore. 
 
H 
 
 im: 
 
 DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 Tis true, life's a dream 
 More calm, that the beam 
 
 Soul-kindled more vividly bums, 
 With steadier light, 
 Dissolving dim night. 
 
 Which mind, by her alchemy, turns 
 
 ■■,}' 
 
 ■/f 
 
 To broad, stirring day, ' 
 
 With clear, golden ray » . ^• 
 
 Of sunlight, green fields, azure sky, 
 Woods, streams, mountains, seas. 
 Sweet flowers, balmy breeze, [fly. 
 
 With creatures that crawl, swim, walk, 
 
 There are who,* of mould '■ 
 
 Abnormal, behold u. v? 
 
 Strange visions with mind's open eye ; 
 Who, spurning the bars .^ ' 
 
 Of sense, to the stars, , -\ *" i. ^ 
 
 Through soul-gendered firmaments, fly. 
 
 * Appendix Q. 
 
 L 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 97 
 
 And, with ravished ear, 
 Jn planet lands hear 
 
 Spirits' converse on Heaven's design. 
 Expounding each clause 
 Of those wondrous laws 
 
 Of the great primal source Divine. 
 
 There are too, who see,* U a^ 
 
 In vacuity, . ;. u;^ 
 
 Clear visions with calm, steady gaze : 
 Thought painting on space 
 Void, sunlit, each face. 
 
 As seen in reality's blaze. 
 
 ■/-•,.' .".\f. 
 
 In the clear, full light. 
 Stands the image bright 
 
 Of each object, in bold relief: 
 To their sense-warped view. 
 All so lifelike, true. 
 
 As to gender in many belief, 
 
 ^Appendix R. I 
 
 .^'^: 
 
 ii.< 
 
as 
 
 DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 That the phantom, thought, 
 On fine nerve-woof wrought, 
 
 Or by fancy from elf-land lured. 
 Is no spectral lie, 
 But true entity, 
 
 By sight to reality moored. 
 
 ^:':7 
 
 What paints the blue sky ? ,. ; v, 
 The light, mind, or eye ?* » r 
 
 What silvers the moth's satin wings? 
 Or, over yon wold, ^m .if'^^ ^ 
 A mantle of gold :i: ^ . ;;. . , 
 
 And green, in rich harmony, flings. 
 
 W' 
 
 One holding a cup, vu/ 
 Is ordered to sup 
 
 Plain water, to nulk changed at will. 
 He looks : to the sight 
 Most plainly 'tis white. 
 
 He drinks and 'tis clearly milk still. 
 
 » Appendix S. .y--:i--':^^-2--- . 
 
DAT-DBBAHS. 
 
 * Nay, but it is wine : 
 Its particles shine, 
 
 'Tis genuine blood of the grape : 
 But taste it :' * Ah, yes ; 
 'Tis wine, I confess.' 
 
 Nor can he conviction escape. 
 
 99 
 
 i'i 'ji 
 
 Thus matter we find 
 Transmuted by mind ; 
 
 The muscles too seemingly dead, 
 Or sinewed with might: ' ;|i ^■ 
 
 Hence iron is light, ' 
 
 A feather more weighty than* lead. 
 
 \^ 
 
 And though we behold, 
 Thro' portals of gold, 
 
 Great Phoebus ascend, onward roll, 
 And, through the expanse 
 Of blue Heaven, advance. 
 
 With full orb, to his western goal : 
 
 ^Appendix T. 
 
 ffh 
 
100 
 
 DAT-DBEAMS. 
 
 Yet science denies 
 Its truth, and descries 
 
 A fixed sun and revolving earth : 
 Yet not fixed — thro' space 
 He pursues his race, 
 
 'Mid bright stars of coeval (?) birth ; 
 
 » 
 
 Brother orbs that lie, ' 
 One vast family, ' " 
 
 From this sun to the utmost bound 
 Of our firmament — 
 Glorious star-lit tent, ^ • 
 
 Azure-domed in the vast profound. 
 
 Swift careering on. 
 Round some central sun,* 
 
 In their ceaseless, unerring race : 
 Glorious galaxy, 
 On a crystal sea, 
 
 Islet stars, in void, silent space. 
 
 * Appendix U. 
 
DAT-DBIAXS. 
 
 101 
 
 Yet, when viewed afar, 
 From some outskirt star, 
 
 This firmament star-spangled bright, 
 Seems there but a speck, 
 Or dull milky streak. 
 
 Sunk in depths of dim-curtained night : 
 
 While to us their skies, vv^f^ V 
 
 Where suns countless rise, v 
 
 In the deep empyreal blue. 
 Seem mere tiny dots, ' * 
 
 Mapped on star charts — blots '^^ 
 
 Of faint light, to our flesh-dimmed view. 
 
 In a mirror true, 
 
 All objects we view. 
 
 Reflected, seem real ; endued 
 
 With mind, motion, will. 
 
 Or breathless and still, . 
 
 Bound, angular, pale, rosy-hued, ' 
 
 I* 
 
102 
 
 DAT-DBEAMS. 
 
 As in life. The eye 
 Enkindles ; the sky 
 
 Is bright : on its bosom clouds float — 
 White isles on a sea 
 Of azure — each tree 
 
 Is robed in its own leafy coat. 
 
 There too imaged lie 
 
 The earth and the sky, r, 
 
 Created by sense, swift as thought, 
 From nothing, on space, 
 Into form and ^ace ; 
 * On the image-glass of the soul wrought. 
 
 '..„- : 
 
 In the realms of art 
 And nature, each part 
 
 Shews perfect — each answers to each — 
 The vase, statue, bell . < / 
 
 Or rich, pearly shell, " ' 
 
 Fair lily and fleshy-cheeked peach. 
 
iY-DBBAMB. 
 
 loa 
 
 The soul's wild distress 
 
 The features express, , 
 
 And manifold thoughts, hopes, and joys : 
 Yet all are writ there, 
 Hope, anger, despair, 
 
 With a pen which truth only employs. 
 
 And the thoughts that speak 
 Thro' the blushing cheek, 
 
 And hopes which soft glances inspire, 
 And the lightning flash 
 'Neath the eye's dark lash, pre. 
 
 And black clouded brow charged with 
 
 And the lids that teli . r-. 
 
 The soul's tale so well. 
 
 Or which scorn to shed the soft tear, 
 And each lock of hair. 
 On the forehead fair, 
 
 With its shadow, stand visibly clear. 
 
104 
 
 BAY-PREAMB. 
 
 Tet 'tis a dream's dream, 
 The whole : things but seem 
 
 To be, move, or act : for on air, 
 By soft sunbeams writ. 
 The thin phantoms flit— 
 
 The figments of thought not more rare. 
 
 Thus mind builds a globe, A 
 
 Throws o'er it a robe 
 
 Of grey twilight or rosy day. 
 With blue bending skies, 
 Now, starred with bright eyes. 
 
 Peering down with pure sparUing ray. 
 
 • I 
 
 i ' 
 
 Now flooding with light 
 
 The wide realms of night, t [eyes. 
 
 The bright, twinkling stars shut their 
 And, dazzled away ^A 
 
 From contest with day. 
 
 For the empire of beauty, night flies. 
 
DAT-DBEAUS. 
 
 105 
 
 And rosy-cheeked morn, 
 Of light and love bom, 
 
 She teaches to kiss the gay flowers ; 
 And the sparkling dew, 
 Bright stars which earth strew, 
 
 To sip, in the soft vernal hours. 
 
 At her nod, morn bends 
 
 Her fair form: descends [air, 
 
 With haste, from her cloud throne of 
 And pours golden light 
 From the mountain's height. 
 
 On earth's forests and tower tops fair. 
 
 Then visits each vale, ^ 
 
 Where soft warblers hail 
 
 Her approach, with sweet matin song : 
 The lark shakes his wings. 
 Mounts high heaven and sings, 
 
 With voice at once tuneful and strong. 
 
 .J 
 
r 
 
 9e««««90^p 
 
 IQG 
 
 DAT-DBEAHS. 
 
 The daisy — day's eye — 
 So pretty and shy, 
 
 Plue pimpernel, marigold bright, 
 Whose lids closed, when day 
 Paled her sparkling ray. 
 
 Now ope them again to the light. 
 
 I 
 
 From those golden beams. 
 
 Which, like hope's young dreams, [drew 
 
 Oft tremble round cloud-skirts, she 
 Her colours, to tip 
 The daffodil's lip ; 
 
 From sky too, the violet's blue. 
 
 .yit* 
 
 Thus mom lays the scene, 
 In ground- work of green. 
 
 The fields, trees and ivy-clad tower, 
 And dipping her beams 
 In beauty's rich streams. 
 
 With pencil of light draws each flower. 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 107 
 
 The snow-drop the snow 
 Outrivals; the glow 
 
 Of sunset can scarcely outvie 
 The dew-spangled rose, 
 When morning's breath blows, 
 
 But in darkness their beauties all die. 
 
 For all things to sight • 
 
 One dress wear at night, 
 
 Rose, snow-drop, blue sea, sober pond: 
 But, as if charmed things, 
 All loveliness springs 
 
 At one wave of her magic wand. 
 
 Such tricks ev'ry day •■^--r^^. 
 
 Coy Fancy doth play 
 
 — That strange Maja* of Eastern brains — 
 'Tis God paints each scene. 
 What is, what has been, * 
 
 And deep in the mind it ingrains. 
 
 ^Appendix V. 
 
 ^f 
 
108 
 
 DAY-DBBAICS. 
 
 Tet the human sonl 
 Is no mere blank scroll, 
 
 Where fancy may write what she wills 
 Each faculty, sense. 
 Force, feeling intense. 
 
 Stands immovable as the hills. 
 
 m^ --^ ■ 
 
 This wonder-fraught earth. 
 Land of tears, hopes, and mirth, 
 
 —Thing of fancy, on sunbeams hung — 
 She wraps in cloud-robe. 
 And spins round a globe 
 
 Light-raying, — ^itself likewise swung 
 
 Somewhere in the blue, ■ ^ 
 
 Its race to pursue. 
 
 By centrifugal power hurled on, 
 In its astral course. 
 
 By attractive force, ' 
 
 * Whirled round its own gorgeous sun. 
 
DAY-J)BBAM8. 
 
 109 
 
 With its galaxy 
 
 Of dim stars, which lie 
 
 Strata thick upon strata piled, 
 In the vast profound, 
 Which no eye can sound, 
 
 Where even conjecture seems wild. 
 
 In eddying whirls, 
 
 Worlds heaped upon worlds, 
 
 Thick as leaves in the' autumnal blast, 
 Or as snow-flakes fly. 
 In a vrintry sky. 
 
 When whole Heaven seems overcast. 
 
 'eons sun. 
 
 Down, down in the deep, ; I 
 
 WHere cease not nor sleep . 
 
 The wonders or works of the All-wise, 
 
 Whom not the Infinite 
 
 Can exhaust, and yet 
 
 He mouldeth the Butterfly's eyes. 
 
 J 
 
110 
 
 BAY-DREAMS. 
 
 Up, up in the sky, 
 
 Where star systems fly, [march 
 
 East, west, north, south, far as thoughts 
 Until, in despair. 
 We sink, for e*en there. 
 
 The circles of things but enlarge. 
 
 I : 
 
 f ill ! " 
 
 As light with her hues 
 
 All objects indues, " ^i 
 
 And on the dark cloud hangs her bow : 
 So life spans the earth t 
 
 With beauty and worth, » ? 
 
 Enzoning with grace all below. 
 
 * "^^ *■ ^ ~ - - ' - ^ \ n- Mi 
 
BAY-DRBAMS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Life diversifies 
 Herself: multiplies 
 
 Into countless shapes, shades, and things, 
 Her being : is bom 
 A rosebud, at morn ; 
 
 At eve, a plumed nightingale, sings. 
 
 One while, in a dress ^ 
 
 Of strange loveliness, [trothed, 
 
 She lifts her chaste brow Spring-be- 
 A snow drop, with glow 
 Outvieing the snow, 
 
 A bride, in sweet innocence clothed. 
 
 Now, shy in the shade, f 
 
 By the cool cascade, 
 
 A primrose or violet blue : 
 Now, throned like a queen, 
 A rose-bud, scarce seen 
 
 In mantle of moss, starred with dew. 
 
r 
 
 \r2 DAY-iDBEAHS. 
 
 As stem, leaves and root, 
 Fair flowers and rich fruit, 
 
 One embryo plant-life enfolds: 
 So, like a vast sun 
 All-raging, life one 
 
 Earth's wondrous variety holds. 
 
 The life 'tis, that moulds 
 The lily, unfolds 
 
 The soft germ, develops the leaves, 
 Paints, with pearly light. 
 The rich petals white. 
 
 And veins with sweet scent interweaves. 
 
 The life 'tis, that gilds 
 The crocus ; that builds 
 
 The smooth mushroom and gnarly oak ; 
 And rears to the sky. 
 Tall pines that defy. 
 
 Yet court too, the lightning's fell stroke. 
 
DAT-DRBAMS. 
 
 A Proteus in skill, 
 Is all things at will, 
 
 Unfolding itself every hour, 
 In some aspect new 
 Of fair form and hue. 
 
 113 
 
 [er. 
 
 Tall tree, humble grass, perfumed flow- 
 As a crystal broke. 
 By a ruthless stroke. 
 
 Into glittering fragments flies ; 
 Each separate part 
 Hath its Iris heart, 
 
 And rich veins of prismatic dyes. 
 
 As perfect and clear, 
 As a rounded tear 
 
 Is an ocean distinct and whole : 
 So each life whole, one. 
 From one life is spun, 
 
 A beam rayed from the central soul. 
 
lU 
 
 PAY-DBKAH8. 
 
 And life neither tires 
 Nor rests, but aspires 
 
 Still on, in her glorious career 
 Of progress, whose car 
 Rolls sure as a star,* [or clear. 
 
 Though as slow, through skies cloudy 
 
 As when a page, bright 
 With truth's glowing light, 
 
 Yields up its full store to the soul. 
 Its periods possess 
 No truth or thought less, [whole. 
 
 Though its students exhaust each the 
 
 Or when the brain teems 
 With phantasy's dreams, 
 
 Flung random, like sparks on the wind, 
 Or reason outpours 
 Her purified ores, 
 
 Strained through the Alembic of mind. 
 
 Appendix Y. 
 
DAY-DBBAMS. 
 
 115 
 
 The brain loses naught 
 Of fancy, or thought, 
 
 Or wisdom, or feeling, or force ; 
 Each dream, passion, view, 
 Rolls on ever new, [source. 
 
 Welled up from the thoughts^ fertile 
 
 So life, fresh as morn 
 On mountain tops born. 
 
 Is flush as in springes glorious bloom ; 
 Or as, in her prime. 
 When summoned by time, [tomb. 
 
 She sprang from the cold dreamless 
 
 As love, with soft eyes, 
 A maiden's cheek dyes. 
 
 And mantles in beauty her face ; 
 Or when a grey mist. 
 By a sunbeam kist. 
 
 Is thrilled into many-hued grace. 
 
116 
 
 DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 E'en so the great soul, 
 Rich fount of the whole, 
 
 Incarnates her own beauteous dreams ; 
 Now curtains the sky 
 With cloud drapery. 
 
 Baptized in the Sun's glowing beams : 
 
 Now mantles in green - - 
 
 The earth still, serene, - 
 
 Or waving, gold-hued, in the wind ; 
 Then melts into night * > 
 
 All images bright, [mind. 
 
 Dissolved through life's menstruum, 
 
 And in the void, strewn 
 With stars, hangs the moon. 
 
 Sad pilgrim attendant of earth ; 
 While each gem, that glows 
 On night's girdle, owes, 
 
 To her fashioning hand, its birth. 
 
DAY-DBEAHS. 
 
 H7 
 
 She photographs all, 
 
 The great as the small, [stars ; 
 
 On Time's canvass — the mass of the 
 The rainbow on high, 
 And life-germs that lie 
 
 Earth- prisoned, till nature unbars 
 
 The portals, whence, rife 
 With energy, life 
 
 Bursts forth into bud, blossom, fruit, 
 Of thousand-fold shape 
 And shade, — nut and grape, * [root. 
 
 Rose, snow-drop, hard grain, pulpy 
 
 She paints the wide scene , 
 
 With groundwork of green. 
 
 The fields, trees, and ivy clad tower, 
 And, dipping her beams 
 In phantasy's streams. 
 
 With pencil of light paints each flower. 
 
118 
 
 DAY-DBEAHS. 
 
 Mind touching the springs 
 
 Of being, all things [hued, — 
 
 Shoot up, through the voids, rainbow- 
 Blue, golden, or green; 
 Storm wrapped or serene, [as viewed. 
 
 High, low, straight, bent, branching; 
 
 ytN 
 
 Through the spectrum, sense. 
 The Soul's medium, whence 
 
 All substance material derives 
 Its being, and guise 
 Of shape, colour, size, [strives 
 
 From whose presence the mind vainly 
 
 To emancipate •> 
 
 Itself, for, by fate 
 
 Enfeebled, it sinks into sense, 
 With her shifting views ;^' 
 
 Of strange forms and hues, ^> 
 
 1 , ' , 
 
 pens. 
 
 As seen through the mind's coloured 
 
DAY-DREAHS. 
 
 119 
 
 From mind, vital root 
 
 Of phenomena, shoot [mits gleam 
 
 Trunk and branches, on whose sum- 
 Star-blossoms, whence flies 
 Pollen-dust, through all skies, [dream 
 
 Earths, moons, — ^life's bright, beautiful 
 
 1^ 
 
 Of being outspread, 
 Soul-gendered and fed 
 
 By fancy, which weaves the blue sky. 
 And views the immense 
 Voids sunless, thro' sense, 
 
 The kaleidoscope of the mind's eye ; 
 
 Ins. 
 ed 
 
 And spins, at our feet, 
 
 Rose, pink, brier sweet, [beams dance, 
 
 Through whose leaves the rich sun- 
 Or poises, afar 
 In dim night, the star, 
 
 Outrolled on the boundless expanse. 
 
120 
 
 DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 All, all imaged here — 
 
 On the soul — the sphere [rings — 
 
 Central, stellar — all worlds, moons. 
 The germ and the tree, 
 The drop and the sea, 
 
 All astral, terrestrial things. 
 
 As, thro' a stained glass, 
 The rays coloured pass. 
 
 Or as from rare media to dense, 
 The light, by new force, 
 Is bent from its course. 
 
 As the angle inclines : so the sense 
 
 On all known things acts, j 
 
 Paints objects, refracts. 
 
 Diminishes, magnifies all, ^^ ^ 
 As curved lines enforce 
 The light's changeful course. 
 
 Thro' bodies, on which its rays fall. 
 
 u 
 
DAY-DBBAHS. 
 
 121 
 
 All knowledge is what 
 Pure truth mind has got, 
 
 From her own golden treasury stole : 
 Bright, sterling, refined, 
 The ingots of mind. 
 
 Struck off at the mint of the soul. 
 
 As a ray bent back ^^i 
 
 From its onward track. 
 
 Reflects but the things it has seen, 
 So, when mind reveals 
 New truths, she unseals [been. 
 
 The crypt, where her jems have aye 
 
 
 'Tis light lately shed -/ ^ > 
 On a page oft read ; 
 
 A leaf of her volume just turned ; 
 A new bud burst forth 
 On the bosom of earth ; , a M 
 
 A passion unknown till it burned. 
 
 K 
 
122 
 
 IXAY^DBBAMS* 
 
 Through a prism rays seen, 
 Blue, yellow, and green, 
 
 In nature a white gleam diffuse, 
 Hence pencils of bright '"% 
 
 And colourless light, ' 
 
 Paint the mantle of things of all hues. 
 
 , -.-I*-: 
 
 ■^■M:"-^riuiM 
 
 And thus the soul rich 
 In all beauties, which 
 
 Encircle the low as the high, 4 
 Breathes flowers and soft light, 
 Or frowns storms and night. 
 
 Or smiles hosts of stars thro' the sky. 
 
 *':^ 
 
 ■ l 
 
 This picture of God, ' -^ ! 
 
 Hung up in the broad, ' ^ 
 
 Wondrous universe of the soul. 
 Was by his pen drawn. 
 Who spread the blue lawn 
 
 Of deep ether, where cea seless roll 
 
 <i y 
 
DAT-DREAHS. 
 
 1^3 
 
 Earths, moons, comets, stars-^ j . 
 
 Nature's glorious cars 
 
 Along the great railways of Heaven ; 
 But what their freight, goal, 
 — ^As parts, as a whole — [given ? 
 
 Know we ? Hath such knowledge been 
 
 When death comes, we shake 
 
 Our chains off, awake [worth : 
 
 From life's dream, by mind's native 
 Our coils now unfold, ' . ' 
 
 By death snapped, and bold 
 
 The disenthralled spirit steps forth. 
 
 Scales drop from the eyes • V 
 
 Of mind, and the guise, 
 
 Which thought had assumed during life, 
 Is shred — like a flower, ^ / i 
 
 By the scathing power [strife; 
 
 Of winged lightning — thus ends the 
 
124 
 
 DAT-dreams; 
 
 And as a balloon ^ ^ ^ . v r* /^ 
 
 Springs upward, so soon , 
 
 As its cords have slipped their firm tie 
 So, springs the glad soul, 
 Freed from time's control, 
 ,. With one bound, to its native sky. 
 
 That sky which is near, . 
 Not far off; 'tis here, 
 ? In the soul, not the soul in it ; 
 And Soul hath not space, r 
 Nor needs it for base, .^ • 
 
 A wide universe, or a point. 
 
 i \ 
 
 All spirits might dwell 
 
 In a cypris' shell, » . . 
 
 Whose very minuteness astounds, 
 Feel free, as a fly 
 In day's open sky, 
 ' And roam through its infinite bounds. 
 
DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 125 
 
 PART IX. 
 
 'i'.is J^'iJi^'i'.:^ 
 
 ''Has not a deeper meditation taught . . . that the Whbrb 
 and Wbxs, so mysteriously inseparable from all our thoughts, are 
 but superficial terrestrial adhesions to thought ; that the Seer may 
 discern them where they mount up out of the celestial Evbbtwhbbb 
 
 and FoBBVBB Think well, thou too wilt find that Space 
 
 is but a mode of our human Sense, so likewise Time ; there m no 
 Space and no Time ; Wb are — we know not what ; — light>sparkles 
 floating in the aether of Deity 1 
 
 " So that this so solid-seeming World, after all, were but an 
 air-image, our Mb the only reality : and Nature, with its thousand, 
 fold production and destruction, but the reflex of our own inward 
 Force, the * phantasy of our Dream ;' or what the Earth-Spirit in 
 Faust names it, the living visible Garment of God" 
 
 — Cabltlb. 
 
 What's SPACE but a thought, 
 In the sense-loom wrought, 
 
 Inwove in the woof of the mind ; 
 Each varying scene 
 On life's glowing screen. 
 
 
 By the pen of the spirit designed. 
 
 ^ 
 
 * 
 
126 
 
 DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 The near and the far, 
 The grass blade, the star, 
 
 The boundless, the finite, the fair, 
 The star-spangled blue. 
 The ocean, the dew. 
 
 And tempest and sunshine are there. 
 
 Doth TIME, then, alone,* 
 For ever rush on. 
 
 To future from present and past : 
 Or is she too thought. 
 By sense subtly wrought. 
 
 And on the mind's dial-plate glassed ; 
 
 Whose hands each event a t 
 
 — Great, little — present « s -^ 
 
 To view, on the chart of the soul ; 
 Where, seen or unseen. 
 They are and have been, 
 
 Inscribed on her magical scroll 
 
 * Appendix W. 
 
DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 127 
 
 r, 
 
 here. 
 
 Which as we unfold, 
 Time's story is told, * 
 
 With ink sympathetic ; and he, 
 Who ventures to read 
 Her secrets, hath need 
 
 To study the soul's alchemy. 
 
 i: 
 
 lassed ; 
 
 ml; 
 
 / 
 
 A painting sublime, Vvo 
 
 All-circling, is time. 
 
 Here sunlit, there buried in clouds, 
 In which the whole past 
 For ever stands fast. 
 
 The future night's curtain enshrouds ; 
 
 And, stormy or fair, 'r 
 
 The present is there. 
 
 In colours so clear and intense. 
 That, dazzling the eye 
 With their brilliancy. 
 
 They seem real, not figments of sense. 
 
128 
 
 DAY-DBBAMS. 
 
 As, in midnight's hour, 
 The telescope's power 
 
 Adds firmaments star-strewn and vast, 
 Where, to the mere eye. 
 There seems but one sky, . 
 
 So, on the sense mirror, is glassed 
 
 The present alone ; 
 The future unknown. 
 
 Still hid in the boundless expanse, 
 The fai'seeing eye 
 Of mind may descry. 
 
 Unveiled by her telescope- glance. 
 
 But, as we proceed 
 Still onward, we read 
 
 Fresh sibylline excerpts of fate : 
 Discoveries new 
 Unfolding to view 
 
 New phases of mind's primal state. 
 
DAY-DBEAMS. 129 
 
 As when we behold - *' r ■-:^: -,,".'•.-, :i^^f/ 
 A pale rim of gold, v i»^J^^ 
 
 Suspended at even on high ; 
 Night's beautiful queen ' 
 
 Is there, as when seen '? 
 
 Full orbed, in the blue, vaulted sky. 
 
 As in voids remote 
 Vast firmaments float, 
 
 Deep, deeper in widening space ; 
 So, graved on mind's sky. 
 Like star systems, lie 
 
 The tableaux of Time's onward race. 
 
 And far off and near 
 Are evermore here : 
 
 The pictures of time, one by one, 
 Shew through the deep night — 
 Illumed by the light. 
 
 Like cloud-isles transpierced by the sun. 
 
I 
 
 130 
 
 DAY-DBEAMS. 
 
 Whilst things, in Time's womb, ■ A 
 
 Are seen to assume - 
 
 ^ A brilliancy breathing, intense; 
 The present, which glows 
 So vividly, flows : 
 
 To memory, fading from sense. ' '4 
 
 But still it is ^ere ; ' . ' 
 
 The wondrous career 
 
 Of time, on her tragical scroll — 
 Mapped out, first and last, — 
 The great living past. 
 
 And stereotyped on the soul. 
 
 As autumn's brown leaf, \ 
 
 Infolds the belief, 
 
 That Time had once cradled with care, 
 And nurtured with food 
 It's life in the bud. 
 
 And smoothed its pale folds to the air, 
 
DAT-DBSAMS. 
 
 131 
 
 
 And in its dark green, , v] : 
 
 In summer-day sheen, 
 
 Oft nestled, and in the cool night ; 
 Till marring its form, 
 With grasp of the storm, ^ 
 
 He flung it to earth with fierce might. 
 
 And as its sere state 
 Involves its past fate. 
 
 The changes successive of life : 
 So, in present thought 
 The past is inwrought, 
 
 With manifold memories rife. 
 
 , t ■ '^' 
 
 ir/> 
 
 Or, as in hoar hair. 
 We feel, that oft there [rime, 
 
 Time had passed, ere he scattered his 
 And, in the shrunk face. 
 Age-furrowed, we trace. 
 
 The deeply-grooved wheel- tracks of time: 
 
n 
 
 
 132 
 
 DAY-DREAMS. 
 
 And, as in those locks 
 
 And furrows, the shocks ^ 
 
 ^ Of time are unveiled to mind's eye ; 
 Youth, manhood, and age, 
 Like memory's page, ' 
 
 Deep graved, with known histories lie. 
 
 And whilst, on the brow 
 Beholding the now, 
 
 The past to infer were compelled ; 
 So, may not life's whole 
 Be stamped on the soul, 
 
 The past in the present beheld. 
 
 Thus is the immense 
 
 A web of the sense, [wrought. 
 
 Where matter, space, time are in- 
 In hues dark as night, 
 Or bright as the light. 
 
 Or dim as the shadows of thought. 
 
DAT-DREAMS. 
 
 133. 
 
 In the soul is wrought 
 The whole starry vault 
 
 Of Heaven, the blue, bounding sea ; 
 The fair bark, that rides 
 On its surging tides, 
 
 And Zephyr that laughs on the lea. 
 
 The visage of night 
 With its star-eyes bright ; 
 
 The beauty of morning, inwrouo-ht 
 On time's glowing stream, 
 Is a lovely dream — 
 
 All matter but crystallized thought. 
 
 But as, in the green, 
 Glorious ocean seen. 
 
 An iceberg floats on in its might ; 
 Cold, solid, and vast. 
 Urged by the chill blast, 
 
 But melts in day's southern light : 
 
134 
 
 DAY-DBBAMS. 
 
 ; I 
 
 So matter floats on, 
 Earth, satellite, sun, 
 
 Vast, ponderous, solid, when viewed 
 Through life's medium, sense — 
 The soul's magic lens 
 
 Concave-convex, prismatic, all-hued. 
 
 But when, on this dream 
 Of things, the pure beam 
 
 Of reason looks in, and compels 
 The mind to suspect 
 All being time-decked, 
 
 In soul-woven garb, it dispels 
 
 The child-faith, which sense 
 Clear, glowing, intense. 
 
 Throws over the mind, thick as night ; 
 Dissolving in doubt 
 All matter, throughout 
 
 The wide realms of touch and of siuht. 
 
A P p i: N D I X 
 
 APPENDIX A. 
 
 ' 'Tis thus at the roaring loom of time I ply, 
 And weave for God the garment thou seo'st him by. ' 
 
 —Goethe, in Sartor AVs*// ^t;.". 
 
 APPENDIX B. 
 
 " The Ichthyosaurus, sometimes more than SO feet loug, bud the 
 saout of a porpoise, the teeth of a crocodile, (sometimes amountinc 
 to 1S<))> the head of a lizard, the vertebra of a fish, the steruum ot 
 
 an oniithorhyuchus, and the paddles of a whale Its 
 
 eye was prodigiously large ; in one species, the orbital cavity beinjif 
 14 inches in its longest direction. This eye also, bad a pecuIiHr 
 construction to make it operate both like a telescope and a micros- 
 cope : thus enabling the animal to descry its prey in the night as 
 well as day, and at great depths in the water. The length of its 
 jaws was sometimes more than six feet ... its habits were 
 carnivorous; its food, fishes and the young of its own species; 
 some of which it must have swallowed of groat length." — Hitcl' 
 cock's Ofoloffy. 
 
136 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 " The scales, bones, and other remains, constantly found in the 
 interior of the skeleton, prove that it was an inhabitant of the sea." 
 —MdnteU'a Wonders of Geology. 
 
 APPENDIX C. 
 
 " The Pterodactyle had the head and neck of a bird, the mouth 
 of a reptile, the wings of a bat, and the body and tail of a mammi- 
 fer . . . its eyes were enormously large, so that it could seek 
 its prey in the night." — Hitchcock. 
 
 " With flocks of such-like creatures flying in the air, and shoals 
 of no less monstrous ichthyosauri and plesiosauri swarming in the 
 ocean, and gigantic crocodiles and tortoises crawling on the shores 
 of the primoeval lakes and rivers; air, sea, and land must have been 
 strangely tenanted in these early periods." — Buckland, in ITitch' 
 cock. 
 
 APPENDIX D. 
 
 "The remains of men have not been found in any deposit older 
 than alluvium, except in a few cases where they have been proba- 
 bly introduced into drift subsequent to its deposition." — LyelVs 
 principles in Hitchcock. 
 
 " But not a trace of the trilobite has been discovered above the 
 carboniferous strata." — Hiichvoek. 
 
 "Dr. Buckland estimates the total thickness of all the stratified 
 rocks in Europe to be at least 10 miles." 
 
 " In Pennsylvania, fossiliferous rocks beneath the top of the 
 coal measures are more than 7.5 miles in thickness." — Bogera in 
 Hitchcock. 
 
 " The thickness in feet of the fossiliferous strata in Great Britain, 
 as given in the tabular view of the stratified rocks, with the excep- 
 tion of the Silurian ana Cambrian systems, which I give on the 
 authority of Professor Phillips, is as follows : 
 
 Tertiary 2,000 feet, 
 
 Chalk 1,100 do. 
 
 Wealden 900 do. 
 
 Oolite 2,000 do. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 137 
 
 Lias 700li9ei» 
 
 Upper New Red 900 do. 
 
 Lower New Bed 800 do. 
 
 Carboniferous System... 5,700 do. 
 
 Old Bed Sandstone 10,000 do. 
 
 Silurian Bocks 7,470 do. 
 
 Cambrian Bocks 9,000 do. 
 
 Total 40,570 feet; or7K miles." 
 
 •—Hitchcock. 
 
 In the Silurian rocks is found the Trilobite: not, until after the 
 Tertiary, man. 
 
 APPENDIX E. 
 
 Who made man's eye, had ho no skill to make 
 Himself ten myriads, if in need he stood 
 Of media, such as these, through which to view, 
 At one wide glance, each spot of his domain? 
 Alaih^s eye can rest on objects more than one. 
 Ilia mind embrace, in quick succession, all: 
 Increase that power progressively ; then pause; 
 Say what might he not be, and thence infer, 
 The vastness of God's attributes, &c. &c. 
 
 Though we speak ordinarily of omnipotence and omniscience, 
 yet perhaps nature only teaches us the vastness of the power in do- 
 ing, and of apparent wisdom in adjusting means to ends, of the 
 spirit of nature operating in the frame of man, the ganglion of the 
 insect, or the stamen of a flower. But how can we fathom the in- 
 finite? Employed by us, are they not words of relative meaning? 
 
 APPENDIX F. 
 
 For an account of the calculating machine, here referred to, see 
 the ** Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation," and the argu- 
 ment of the author. Also, the ** Ninth Bridgewater Treatise," by 
 Mr. Babbagc. 
 
138 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 APPENDIX G. • : 
 
 " The views which I, (says Sir Charles Lyell,) proposed origi- 
 nally in the Principles of Geology, in opposition to the theory of 
 progressive development, may be thus briefly explained. From the 
 earliest period at which plants and animals can be p 'oved to have 
 existed, there has been a continual change going on in the position 
 of land and sea, accompanied by great fluctuations of climate. To 
 these ever-varying geographical and climatal conditions, the state 
 of the animate world has been unceasingly adapted. No satisfac- 
 tory proof has yet been discovered of the gradual passage of the 
 earth from a chaotic to a more habitable state, nor of a law of progres- 
 sive development governing the extinction and renovation of species, 
 and causing the Fauna and Flora to pass from an embryonic to a 
 more perfect condition, from a simple to a more complex organi- 
 zation." — LyelVa Manual. 
 
 "A multitude of facts show that the Deity introduced the 
 different races just at the right time. That he did this according to 
 certain laws, though not by their inherent force — for laws have no 
 such force — may be admitted; as may be done in respect to all his 
 operations ; but this does not prove them any the less special or 
 miraculous. ... In short, we may consider it as proved that 
 all the great classes of animals and plants have been represented on 
 the globe so near the commencement of organic life, that no geolo- 
 gist will doubt that it was so from the very beginning." — HltcIicocJo. 
 
 The Thecodont family of Reptiles is allied to the living Mono- 
 tor, and its appearance in the Lower Permian, " observes Mr. Owen, 
 is opposed to the doctrine of the progressive development of Rep- 
 tiles from Fish, or from simpler to more complex forms; for, if they 
 existed in the present day, these Monitors would take rank at the 
 head of the Laceitian order." — Lyell. 
 
 The author of the " Vestiges," however, says, — " The great fact 
 established by Geology is, that the organic creation, as we now see 
 it, was not placed upon the earth at once ; — it observes a progress. 
 . . In reality, the whole of the geologists admit that we have, 
 first, the remains of inoertelrated animals ; then with these, ^h, 
 being the lowest of the vertebrated ; next, reptiles and birds, which 
 occupy higher grades ; and finally, along with the rest, mamm^ers, 
 the highest of all. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 139 
 
 ** In every classification of the animal kingdom, reptiles rank 
 next above fish, in some living families there is such a conven« 
 tion and intermixture of both characters, that naturalists cannot 
 agree to which class they should be assigned. He actually sees, in 
 a general view of the earlier reptiliferous formations, animals 
 (Ichthyosaur,) combining the fish and the reptile in the most une- 
 quivocal manner. 
 
 " In Mr. Owen's Letters on the Invertelrated Animals, he say*— 
 that man's embryotic metamorphoses would not be less striking 
 than those of the butterfly, if subjected like them to observation— 
 and then adds, that the human embryo is first vermiform, next 
 stamped with the characters of the apodal fish, afterwards indieft> 
 tive of the enaliosaur, and so forth. There is another most respec- 
 table English physiologist — Dr. Roget — who, in his Bridgewater 
 Treatise, explicitly says, * that the animals which occupy the high- 
 est stations in each series possess, at the commencement of their 
 existence, forms exhibiting a marked resemblance to those presented 
 in the permanent condition of the lowest animals of the same series ; 
 and that, during the progress of their development, they assume in 
 succession the characters of each tribe, corresponding to their con« 
 
 £"^cutive order in the ascending chain.' " Explanations of Vet- 
 
 tiges, die. 
 
 " Professor Owen, who last year pronounced that the footprints 
 presented by Mr. Logan, were most probably those of a cheloman 
 animal (turtle), not of a land species — a pronouncement which has 
 a prominent place in the last edition of Sir Charles Lyell's ManwU 
 — read a paper on the 24th of last month before the Geological So- 
 ciety, in which he reversed his former position, and professed his 
 conviction that the footprints were those of animals possessing 
 more then four feet — some eight or ten — consequently that they 
 indicated invertebrate animals, most probably crustacean I We ex- 
 tract from the report in the Athenaum : — 
 
 *' 'The Professor proceeded to observe, that, from their peculiar 
 arrangements, neither to a quadrupedal creature nor a fish-like ahi- 
 mal could these imprints be assigned ; and yet, with respect to the 
 hypothesis that each imprint was made by its independent limb, I 
 confess to much difficulty in conceiving how seven or eight pain 
 of jointed limbs could be aggregated in so short a space of the sides 
 of the animal; so that I incline to adopt as the most probable hypo- 
 

 140 
 
 APPBNDIZ. 
 
 tbeaiBy that the oreatores which hare left these tracts and impres* 
 sions on the most ancient of known sea-shores belonged to an ar* 
 ticulate, and probably crustaoeous, genus. With reference to the 
 ooigectures that might be formed respecting the creatures that have 
 left these tracts, the Professor observed, that the imagination is 
 baffled in the attempt to realize the extent of time passed since the 
 period when these creatures were in being that moved upon the 
 sandy shores of the Silurian sea, and we know that, with the excep- 
 tion of the most microscopic forms, all the actual species of living 
 beings disappear at a period geologically very recent in comparison 
 with the Silurian epoch. The forms of animals present modifica- 
 tions more and more strange and diverse from actual exemplars as 
 we descend into the depths of time past. Of this the Plesiosaur 
 and the Ichtlijosaur are instances in the reptilian class, and the 
 Pterichthys, Coccosteus, and Cephalaspis in the class of fishes. 
 ff then the vertclvate type has undergone suck inconcelvaUe modifi- 
 cations diirinj the secondary and Devonian periods, what may 7wt 
 Iiave been the modifications of tJie articulate type during a period pro- 
 bably more remote from the secondary period than this is from the 
 present time f ' " 
 
 APPENDIX H. 
 
 "M. Comte, of Paris, has made some approach to the verifica- 
 tion of the hypothesis, by calculating what ought to have been the 
 rotation of the solar mass at the successive times when its surface 
 extended to tho various planetary orbits. . . 'From the whole 
 of these comparisons,' says he, * I deduced the following general 
 result: — supposing the mathematical limit of tho solar atmosphere 
 successively extended to the regions where the different planets are 
 now found, the duration of the sun's rotation was, at each of these 
 epochs, sensibly equal to that of the actual sidereal revolution of the 
 corresponding planet; and the same is true for each planetary at- 
 mosphere in relation to the different satellites.' " — Vestiges. 
 
 The apparent retrogression of the satellites of Uranus presents the 
 principal difficulty. For a full exposition of the solar-nebular 
 theory, see "Vestiges." See also, "Nichol's Architecture of the 
 Heavens," &c. 
 
 "The following experiments were first conducted by Professor 
 Plateau of Ghent, and afterwards repeated by Dr. Faraday. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 141 
 
 ** ' Placing a mixture of water and alcohol in a glass box and poor* 
 ing thereon a small quantity of oliye oil, of density precisely equal 
 to the mixture, we have in the latter a liquid mass relieved from 
 the operation of gravity, and free to take the exterior form given by 
 the forces which may act upon it. In point of fact, the oil instantly 
 takes a globular form by virtue of molecular attraction. A vertical 
 axis being introduced through the box, with a small disc upon it, 
 so arranged that its centre is coincident with the centre of the globe 
 of oil, we turn the axis at a slow rate, and thus set the oil sphere 
 into rotation. * We then presently see the sphere flatten at its 
 poles and swell out at its equator, and we thus realize, on a small 
 scale, an effect which is admitted to have taken place in the pla- 
 nets.' The spherifying forces are of different natures, — that of 
 molecular attraction in the case of the oil, and of universal attrac- 
 tion in that of the planet, but the results are analogous, if not iden- 
 tical. ' Quickening the rotation makes the figure more oblately 
 spheroidal. When it comes to be so quick as two or three turns in 
 a second, the liquid sphere first takes rapidly its maximum of flat- 
 tening, then becomes hollow above and below, around the axis of 
 rotation, stretching out continually in a horizontal direction, and, 
 finally, abandoning the disc, is transformed into a perfectly regular 
 ring.* At first this remains connected with the disc by a thin 
 pellicle of oil, but, on the disc being stopped, this breaks and disap- 
 pears, and the ring becomes completely disengaged. The only 
 observable difference between the latter and the rings of Saturn la, 
 that it is rounded, instead of being flattened ; but this is accounted 
 for in a satisfactory way. A little after the stoppage of the rotary 
 motion of the disc, the ring of oil, losing its own motion, gathers 
 once more into a sphere. If, however, a smaller disc be used, and 
 its rotation continued after the separation of the ring, rotatory mo- 
 tion and centrifugal force will be generated in the alcoholic fluid, and 
 the oil ring, thus prevented from returning into the globular form, 
 divides itself into * several isolated masses, each of which immedrntely 
 takes the globular form.* These are almost always seen to assume, 
 at the instant of their formation, a movement of rotation upon them- 
 selves — a movement which constantly takes place in the same diretT 
 Hon as that of the ring. Moreover, as the ring, at the instant of its 
 rupture, had still a remainder of velocity, the spheres, to which it 
 has given birth, tend to fly off at a tangent ; but as, on the other 
 side, the disc, turning in the alcoholic liquor, has impressed on this 
 
I i 
 
 f 
 
 142 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 a moTement of rotation, the spheres are especially carried along by 
 this last morement, and revolmfor tome time round t^e disc. Those 
 <which revolve at the same time upon themselves, consequently then 
 present the curious spectacle oi plcmeta revolving at the same time 
 on themselves a)id in their orbits. Finally, another very curious 
 effect is also manifested in these circumstances : besides three of 
 four large spheres into which the ring resolves itself, there are al« 
 most always produced one or two very small ones, which may thus 
 be compared to satellites. The experiment which we have thus 
 described, presents as we see, an image in miniature of the forma- 
 tion of the planets, according to the hypothesis of Laplace, by the 
 rupture of the cosmieal ring, attributable to the condeaaatioa of th j 
 solar atmosphere/ "-^ Vestiges qfthe Natural History qf Crextio,^. 
 
 " My starting point was a statement of the arrangements of the 
 bodies of space, with a hypothesis respecting the mode in which 
 those arrangements had been effected. It is a mistake to suppose 
 this (uebular) hypothesis essential, as the basis of the entire system 
 of nature developed in my book. That basis lies in the material 
 laws found to prevail throughout the universe, which explain why 
 the masses of space are globular; why planets revolve round suns 
 in elliptical orbits; how their rates of speed are high in proportion 
 to their nearness to the centre of attraction ; and so forth. In these 
 laws arises the first powerfiil presumption that the formation and 
 arrangements of the celestial bodies were brought about by the 
 Divine will, aeOng in tli4 manner ofajixed order or laio, instead of 
 any mode which we conceive of as more arbitrary. It is a presump 
 tion which an enlightened mind is altogether unable to resist, when 
 it sees that precisely similar effects are every day produced by law 
 on a small scale, as when a drop of water spherifies, when the re- 
 volving hoop bulges out in the plane of its equator, and the sling, 
 swung round in the hand, increases in speed as the string is short- 
 ened. The philosopher, on observing these phenomena, and flndinpr 
 incontestable proof that they are precisely of the same nature as 
 those attending the formation and arrangement of worlds, learns 
 his first great lesson— that the natural laws work on the minutest 
 gjd the grandest scale indifferently; that, in fact, there is no such 
 thing as great and small in nature, but world spaces are as r hair- 
 breadth, and a thousand years as one day. 
 
 " It wonld strengthen the presumption, and, indeed, place it near 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 143 
 
 to ascertained truths, if we were to obtain strong evidence for what 
 has hitherto been called the nebular hypothesis. The evidence for 
 it is sketched in the r«0%M; it is exhibited . . . in Professor 
 Niohol's Vima of the ArchUeeture (f the Semens. The position 
 held by this hypothesis in the philosophical world, when my book 
 was written, is shown, with tolerable distinctness, in the EdMurgh 
 Review for 1888, where it is spoken of in the following general 
 terms :— ' These views of the origm and destiny of the various sys- 
 tem of worlds which fill the immensity of space, break upon the 
 mind with all the interest of novelty, and M the hightness of truth. 
 Appealing to our imagination by their grandeur, and to our reason 
 by the severe principles on which, thep rest, the mind feels as if a 
 revelation had been vouchsafed to it of the past and future history 
 of the universe.' 
 
 "The chief objection taken to the theory is, that the existence of 
 nebulous matter in the heavens is disproved by the discoveries made 
 by the Earl of Rosse's telescope. By this wondrous tube, we are 
 told it is shown to be 'an unwarrantable assumption that there are 
 in the heavenly spaces any masses of matter different firom solid bod> 
 ies composing planetary systems.'* The fact ij, that the nebulte 
 were always understood to be of two kinds: 1, nebulta which were 
 only distant clusters, and which yielded, one after another, to the 
 resolving powers of telescopes, as these powers were increased ; 2, 
 nebulse comparatively near, which no increase of telescopic power 
 affected. Two classes of objects wholly different were, from their 
 partial resemblance, recognized by one name, and hence the con* 
 ftision which has arisen upon the subject."— £ep2a4t. of Vestiges. 
 
 Professor Niohol says, "For instance, the nebula in Orion is 
 visible to the naked eye, as also is the gorgeous one in Andromeda ; 
 while the largest instrument heretofore turned to them has given 
 no intimation that there light is stellar, but rather the contrary ; 
 although small stars are found buried amidst their mass. Now, if 
 Lord Rosse's telescope resolves these, and others with similar attri> 
 butes, such as some of the streaks among the following plates, we 
 •hall thereby be infbrmed that we have generalised too hastily from 
 the character of known firmaments." 
 
 ''The foregoing being our grounds of bolicf in the existence of 
 
 * North British Review, iii., 477. 
 
144 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 nebalsB — ^first, in a diffused or chaotic state, and again in a condition 
 proximate to pure stars; the only remaining point has reference to 
 nebulse in an intermediate state, — ^when the roundish masses seem 
 to have begun a process of organization or concentration, and car- 
 ried it onwards through several stages : a state to which we have 
 every variety of analogon in the various forms and densities of 
 cometic nuclei. Sir William Herschel certainly was not ignorant 
 that round or spherical clusters abound in the skies, which, when 
 first seen, present all the appearances of such nebulae — nay, he 
 grounded on the fact of their approximate sphericity and varying 
 degrees of concentration, some of the boldest and most engrossing 
 of his conjectures; nor would bo have doubted that multitude 
 which, even to his instruments, seemed only general lights, would, 
 in after times, be resolved ; but here, as before, the gist of the 
 question is not, can you resolve round nebulae never resolved be- 
 fore; but can you resulve such as, quite within the range of former 
 riaion, have continued intractable under the scrutiny of powers 
 which, judging from the average of our experience, must surpasa 
 what ought to have resolved them?" — Ejcplanations of Vestiges. 
 
 ** Herschel was led to the conclusion, that among the ncbuls 
 which were visible in the heavens, there were some composed of 
 ohaotic matter, a hazy, luminous £[uid,'like that occasionally thrown 
 out fh)m comets on their approach to the sun. 
 
 "Among these chaotic masses ho discovered some in which the 
 evidences of condensation appeared manifest, while in others he 
 found a circular disc of light, with a bright nucleus in the centre. 
 Proceeding yet farther, he fuund well formed stars surrounded by a 
 misty halo, which presented all the characteristics of what hei now 
 oonceivcd to bo nebulous fluid. Some of the unformed nubulee were 
 of enormous extent, and among those partially condensed, such as 
 the nebula) with planetary discs, many were found so vast that their 
 magnitude would fill the space occupied by the sun and all its phk- 
 nets, forming a sphere with a diameter of more than 6000 millions of 
 miles. Uniting these and many other facts, the great astronomer 
 was finally brought to believe, that worlds and systems of worlda 
 might yet be in the process of formation, by the gradual condensa- 
 tion of this nebulous fluid, and that flrom this chaotic matter origi- 
 nally came the sun and all the fixed stars which crowd the heavens. 
 This theory, extended, but not modified, in the hands of Laplace, is 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 145 
 
 lUMfo toloooiiBt for nearly all tha phenomenft of the lolar iTttem. 
 
 *'For a loiy time, this bold and sublime speculation was looked 
 upon, even foj the wisest philosophers, with remarkable fkTOW. 
 The resolution of one or two nebulse (so classed hj Herschel,) with 
 the fifty-two feet reflector of Lord Rosse, has induced some persona 
 to abandon the theory, and to attempt to prove its utter impossibi* 
 lity. All that I have to say, is, that Herschel only adopted the 
 theory after he had resolved many hundreds of nebula into stars ; 
 and if there ever existed a reason for accepting the truth of this 
 remarkable speculation, that reason has been scaroelj in any de> 
 gree affected by recent discoveries. 
 
 "' I have examined a large number of the mysterious objects, float* 
 ing on the deep ocean of space like the faintest filmy clouds of light. 
 No power, however great, of the telescope, can accomplish the 
 slightest change in their appearance. So distant that their light 
 employs (in case they be clusters) hundreds of thousands of years 
 Q reaching the eye that gazes upon them, and so extensive, even 
 1 viewed from such a distance, as to fill the entire field of view 
 • .*!: _e telescope many times. Sirius, the brightest, and probably the 
 largest of all the fixed stars, with a diameter of more than a million 
 miles, and a distance of only a single unit, compared with the tens 
 of thousands which divide us from some of the nebula ; and yet 
 this vast globe, at this comparatively short distance, is an inappre* 
 ciable point in the field of the telescope."- -Mitchel. 
 
 APPENDIX I. 
 
 "The following discourses . . . were intended to explain 
 what is meant by the nature of man, when it is said that virtue 
 consists in following, and vice in deviating from it, and, by explain- 
 ing, to show that the assertion is true." Agnin, — " There are at 
 real and the mme kind of mdieationa in human nature, that we were 
 made for soci^tt/ and to do good to our fellow-ereaturee, ae that we 
 were intended to take care of our own l\fe and health, and private 
 food, and that the eame ol^ectione lie againet the one <f tiiete ateer- 
 Hone ae againet the other. 
 
 "Had conscience strength, as it has right; had it power, •• it 
 has manifest authority, it would absolutely govern the world. This 
 
 (i 
 
I 
 
 ! 
 
 146 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 gives U8 a fiirther view of the nature of man ; shews us whfll course 
 of life we were made for." .... "As in ciyil government the 
 constitution is broken in upon and violated by power'and strength 
 prevailing over authority ; so the constitutional man is broken in 
 upon knd violated by the lower faculties, or principles within, pre- 
 vailing over that, which is in its nature supreme over them all. " 
 Again, — '* It will as fully appear, that this our nature, i. e. constitu- 
 tion, is adapted to virtue, as from the idea of a watch it appears, 
 that its nature, t. e. constitution or system, is adapted to measure 
 time. What in iact or event commonly happens, is nothing to this 
 question. Every work of art is apt to be out of order ; but this is 
 80 far from being according to its system, that let the disorder in- 
 crease, and it will totally destroy it." 
 
 And he thinks, " that, from what appears, there is no ground 
 to assert, that those principles in the nature of man, which most 
 directly lead to promote the good of our fellow-creatures, are more 
 generally, or in a greater degree violated, than those which most 
 directly lead us to promote our own private good and happiness." 
 —Bishop Butter's Sermons on Human Nature and Preface. 
 
 APPENDIX J. 
 
 (/fw«f< <Atf foUvmng vsrs«t--omiUed by mistake— aft^ (he last verse 
 
 on page 61.) 
 
 How matchless that band. 
 Whose muscles expand, 
 
 Or contract, round the circle of sight. 
 To abridge or enlarge 
 The pupil's scant marge, 
 
 As we pass from bright day into night. 
 
 J ' II 
 
 How curious to find 
 The eye, from behind, 
 
 Swung forward by pully and chord, 
 That, on the sky's rim, * 
 Ton spire-top be seen, 
 
 No less than this green trampled sward. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 147 
 
 Bat why linger more 
 
 On subjects, whose store 
 
 .' Of seeming a^ustments to endi 
 
 Abounds, in bird, brute, 
 
 Fish, insect, and fruit. 
 
 And far as life's empire extends. 
 
 Doth Qod lack the skill. 
 Or, further, the will. 
 
 To render his creature here blest t * 
 Is Death the one goal 
 Of all ; life man's whole v 
 
 Of being ; his dream of unrest f 
 
 And yet, when we see 
 The variety 
 
 Of boundless, benignant design, 
 Or seeming ; and look 
 Within the God's book, 
 
 The brain, on whose pages diyine 
 
 Is writ, by the hand 
 Of Qod, each command, 
 
 To reverence truth and do right, 
 Be kind, and still hope ; 
 Wo ask, if their scope, 
 
 When read in the heart's mello^ light, 
 
 Points not, through the* abyss 
 Of darkness, to this. 
 
 Eventual truth, right, and good f 
 Or shall he, who wore 
 Toil's garb, evermore 
 
 Be o'erlooked or forgotten by God ? 
 
 But if in the sky 
 
 He dwells, whom the cry 
 
 Of manifold misery mores. 
 
I *< ■ 
 
 148 
 
 1 1 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 If woe be the blight '*' 
 
 Of being — the night. 
 
 Whose permanence Ch>d disapprorciii. 
 
 Iflifehasaplan, 
 And good will to man 
 
 Stands clearly defined in the scheme : 
 Then, is the effect 
 Such, as we connect 
 
 With skill, power, and goodness- supreme t 
 
 Yet nature draws good 
 From all things : the food 
 
 Of life from the limbs of the dead 
 No blade runs to waste ; 
 The germ in the mast 
 
 By the sere leaves of autumn is fed. 
 
 But if not down here, 
 Exists there nowhere 
 
 In the empires of mind, time, or space, 
 A kingdom where good 
 Dies not in the bud 
 
 But ever unfolds, in rich grace. 
 
 By God-conferred power, 
 The bud into flower, 
 
 The flower into ripe, golden firuit. 
 To thus make it clear 
 At length, in each sphere, 
 
 That all things in goodness hare root. 
 
 'WS^ - 
 
 APPENDIX K. 
 
 I think it right to make some acknowledgments to the able 
 aatbor of an article in a late number of the WutmintUr Jieview, on 
 the book of Job, for some remarks on this subject : and here let me 
 •eknowledge my indebtedness to uiy author, to whom, oonieiowly 
 or unoonaciottsly, I may be voder any literary obligations. 
 
 -,s^,,. 
 
 ■:-*' 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 149 
 
 APPENDIX L. j 
 
 TTila^iBGod? TF%a< is natun t Wkaitnwe^ Wkaii§^ 
 nature of oar mutual relations? Do we live in the puIsationB of 
 hia being, as the flower in the tree ? Or sitteth he in the circle of 
 the Hearens, spinning systems within systems through the aiure 
 firmament, and yet i 'tonally overseeing the minutest incident on 
 earth? Is I si. ted in his dealings wi > <<> Whence come 
 we, and whiiuei do \» . ^j ? To such questions what answers do we 
 get from reeuon f " Is it a pleasure to the Almighty that thou art 
 righteous : or a gain to him, that thou makest thy ways perfect be* 
 fore him ? " Or takes he satisfaction, on his own account, in the 
 obedience and praises of man t 
 
 " Is God-head allied 
 
 To the weakness of him he hath made V* 
 
 — Pagi 60. 
 
 Is the love of approval a weakness? Or is it untrue, or a low- 
 ering of the Divine, to suppose that he has pleasure in the 
 awe-struck admiration of man ? Is genuine greatness and noble* 
 ness affronted at the thought ? Does it anthropomorphose Deity t 
 How narrow is the compass of our positive knowledge! 
 
 APPENDIX M. 
 
 What is the end of worship ? The good it is calculated to do U8 ; 
 or the satisfaction it gives Qod ; or both? Worship is the outgo* 
 ing of the reverential feelings towards its object. 
 
 APPENDIX N. 
 
 But the "wind" in all its fluctuations, and "dreams" in their wild- 
 est vagaries, are themselves the result of causes adequate and 
 only adequate to their production. 
 
[I. i 
 
 5 . ! 
 
 ^•■i 
 
 150 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 APPENDIX O. 
 
 " Were there no stronger objections against" this doctrine 
 " than this universal contradiction which it offers to all hu- 
 man belief, conduct and language, to all judgments and feeUngs, 
 it would even then be more completely answered than it deserres.'' 
 
 According to " Hume, a cause is merely the aggregate of cir- 
 cumstances constantly preceding in nature the production of any 
 9lhoi."—Joufrop'» Jniroduetion to JSthics. 
 
 We giro both sides. Let the thoughtful reader carefully dam 
 his own conclusion. 
 
 APPENDIX P. 
 
 That is, in the vety act of dreaming we ask, can it be a dream 
 when we see, Ac. 
 
 " The illusion of dreams is much more complete than that of the 
 most exquisite plays. We pass, in a second of time, from one 
 country to another, and persons who lived in the most different 
 ages of the world, are brought together in strange and incongmou* 
 confusion ." — Maowuh^ 
 
 APPENDIX Q. 
 Swedenborg, for instaoioe. 
 
 APPENDIX R. 
 
 
 Manso, the friend of Tasso, had, says Mr. Hoole. ** an opportuni- 
 ty of examining the singular effects of Tasso's melancholy, and often 
 disputed him concerning a familiar spirit which he pretended con- 
 versed with him : Manso endeavored in vain to persuade his friend 
 that the whole was the illusion of a disturbed imagination ; but the 
 latter was strenuous in maintaining the reality of what he asserted, 
 and, to convince Manso, desired him to be present at one of the 
 mysterious conversations. Manso had tbe complaisance to meet 
 him the next day, and while they were engaged in discourse, on • 
 ■udden he observed that Tasso kept his eyes fixed on a window, and 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 151 
 
 remained in a manner immorable; he called him by his name, bnt 
 received no answer; at last Tasso cried out, ' There is the finendly 
 spirit that is come to converse with me ; look ! and you will beoon- 
 vinced of all I have said.' Manso bet ' iiim with surprise; he 
 looked but saw nothing except the sunbeams darting through the 
 windows ; he cast his eyes all over the room, but could perceive 
 nothing ; and was just going to ask where the pretended spirit was, 
 when he heard Tasso speak with great earnestness, sometimes pot- 
 ting questions to the spirit, sometimes giving answers: delivering 
 the whole in such a pleasing manner, and in such elevated expres- 
 sions, that he listened with admiration, and had not the least incli- 
 nation to interrupt him. At last the uncommon conversation ended 
 with the departure of the spirit, as appeared by Tasso's own words, 
 who, turning to Manso, asked him if his doubts were removed. 
 Manso was more amazed than ever ; he scarce knew what to think 
 of his friend's situation, and waived any further conversation on the 
 subject." — Macnish's PhUoaophy of Sleep. 
 
 APPENDIX S, 
 
 " The tree is green and hard, not of its own natural virtue, but 
 simply because my eye and my hand are fashioned so as to discern 
 such and such appearances under such and such conditions." — 
 
 CarlyWa Essay on Novalia. 
 
 APPENDIX T. 
 
 See a clever artiele in a late number of the London Quarteriif, 
 on Biology, Ac. 
 
 APPENDIX U. 
 
 " The sun, attended by all its planets, satellites, and comets, is 
 sweeping through space towards a star in the constellation Heroalm 
 with a velocity which causes it to pass over a distance equal to 
 83,350,000 miles in every year . . with but one chance out of 
 400,000 that astronomers have been deceived." " The extension of 
 thelawofgravitation to the fixed stars .... settles forever 
 the fiu>t, that in the grand association of stars composing our olos- 
 
152 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 ter, or, as we shall hereafter call it, our astral tyvtem, there must be 
 a MiKtr0 o/graeUy, as certainly as there is one to the solar system." 
 "The data for such an examination must be found in the direction 
 of the solar motion, and in that of the proper motion of the fixed 
 stars." . . ''After a profound examination, Maedler reached the 
 conclusion that Alcyone, the principal star in the group of the Pleia- 
 des, now occupies the centre ofgravUy, and is at present the sun aibout 
 which the universe cj stars composing our astral system are aU r<i' 
 mhing." — Mitchel, 
 
 n 
 
 : I 
 
 r' 
 
 I. Hi 
 
 \\A 
 
 APPENDIX V. (to Page 107.) it 
 
 For the idealism of India, see the works of Sir William Jones. 
 
 APPENDIX V. (to Page 114.) 
 
 "Like as a star. 
 That maketh not haste, 
 That taketh not rest, 
 Be each one fulfilling 
 His God'given best." 
 
 — GOETHB IN CaBLTU. 
 
 APPENDIX W. 
 
 " Turgot said, 'He that has never doubted the existence of inat. 
 ter, may be assured he has no aptitude for metaphysical enquiries.'" 
 
 — Emerson. 
 
 Mr.Garlyle says, " In all (?) German systems, since the time of 
 Kant, it is a fundamental principle to deny the existence of matter ; 
 or rather, we should say, to believe it in a radically different s« ^se 
 from that in which the Scotch Philosopher, kc. Indeed, it is singu* 
 tar how widely diffused, and under what different aspects we meet 
 with it aoiong the most dissimilar classes of mankind. Our Bishop 
 Berkeley seems to have adopted ii from religious inducements; 
 Father Boscovich was led to a very cognate result . . . firom 
 merely mathematical consideration'). Of the ancient Pyrrho or the 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 163 
 
 modern Hume, we do not ipeak : but in the opposite end of the 
 earth, as Sir William Jones informs us, a similar theory of imme- 
 morial age, preyails among the Theologiana of Hindostan. JXmj, 
 Professor Stuart has declared his opinion, that whoever at som« 
 time of his life has not entertained this theory, may reckon that he 
 has shown no talent for metaphysical research. 
 
 " The Idealist boasts that his Philosophy is transcendental, that 
 is, 'ascending beyond the senses.' ... To a transcendentalist, 
 matter has an existence but only as a phenomenon : were toe not 
 there, neither would it be there ; it is a mere relation, or rather the 
 result of a relation between our liying souls and the great first 
 cause . . . Bring a sentient Being, with eyes a little diff.Tent, 
 with fingers ten times harder than mine, and to him that thing 
 which I call a tree shall be yellow and soft, as truly as to me it is 
 green and hard. Form his nervous structure in all points the re- 
 verse of mine, and this same tree shall not be combustible, or heat 
 producing, but dissoluble and cold producirg; not high and con- 
 vex, but deep and concave. There is, in fact, says Fichte, no tree 
 there, but only a manifestation of power from something which is 
 not I. .... 
 
 " But farther . . . according to these Kantean systems, the 
 organs of the mind too, what is called the understanding, are of no 
 less arbitrary, and, as it were, accidental a character than those of 
 the body .... there is no time and no space mit of the mind; 
 they are mere forms of man's spiritual being, laws under which his 
 thinking nature is constituted to act. This seems the hardest con- 
 clusion of all ; but it is an important one with Kant ; and is not given 
 forth as a dogma, but carefully deduced in his ' Cntii! der Reintn 
 Verrmnfff with great precision, and the strictest form of arguments" 
 —Essay on, Novalis. 
 
 Emerson says, " Idealism acquaints us with the total disparity 
 between the evidence of our own being and the evidence of the 
 world's being. . . Idealism sees the world in God. It beholds the 
 whole circle of persons and things, of actions and events, of coun- 
 try and religion, not as painfully accumulated, atom after atom, 
 act after act, in an aged creeping past, but as one vast picture, 
 which Gh)d paints on the instant eternity, for the contemplation of 
 the soul." — Essays. 
 
 "Kant," says Menzel, "had adopted a subjective knowledge of 
 
154 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 the objeotire world, and had pikt the two in snch relatioos with each 
 ottier, that we perceive an object indeed, but only according to sub* 
 jeotive laws of the reason within us, and that the object indeed ap> 
 neara to us only under the subjective conditions, but yet may be 
 ■omething in itself. It was observed that this could lead to no ab« 
 solute knowledge, and the absolutists separated from the school. 
 Some became absolute subjectists, who directly denied the indepen- 
 dent existence of the objective world, which Kant had left in doubt; 
 others became absol ite objectists, who made the subjective percep- 
 tion dependent on the real existence of the object; others still 
 adopted an absolute identity between soul and nature, the subjeo- 
 tire and objective world, the perception and its object. . . . 
 To Schelling, mind and nature are alike mere emanations, phenom« 
 •na, manifestations of the divine idea." — German Literature. 
 
 ** With God as it is a universal hebb, so is it an everlasting now. 
 
 And seest thou therein any glimpse of Ihmoktalitt 
 
 Is the lost Friend still mysteriously Here, even as we are Here 
 mysteriously with God." — Garltlb. 
 
 Causes are potent, (I think, I have seen it so stated,) in propor- 
 tion as they recede from the material towards the spiritual — water, 
 by its weight, i. e., invisible gravity; and as invisible steam. 
 What are heat, electricity, migaetiam ? My arm is moved by im- 
 ponderable, impalpable, invisible mind. Has matter, as such, any, 
 or what force ? 
 
 And are not the questions important, whether matter be the 
 creature of the mind; or the mind, the result of a certain organiza' 
 tion of matter ; or whether matter and mind — ^though a disease of 
 some of the material organs seems to weaken or confuse, and even- 
 tually to destroy, the thinking powers — be not distinct, and matter 
 merely furnish the organs through which the mind acts. On these 
 and other questions, to whatever side my impressions, as a Student 
 of Nature, or inclinations may lean, I wish the Reader to form aa 
 independent opinion ; as though, when not the advocate, in rhyme 
 or otherwise, of a particular dogma, I had no opinion of my own. 
 
 Is not our life a mystery I ** The man who cannot wonder, were 
 he President of innumerable Royal Societies, and carried the whole 
 Jfeeanique Celeste ... in his head, is but a pair of Speotaclee 
 behind which there is no ej9.'*— Sartor Beaartfiu. 
 
APPENJ^IX. 
 
 155 
 
 ritheaeh 
 
 (tOBUb- 
 
 deedap- 
 
 may be 
 to no ab* 
 e school, 
 indepen- 
 in doubt; 
 re percep- 
 hers BtUl 
 le Bubjec- 
 
 . • • 
 , phenom- 
 
 ure. 
 
 Bting KOW. 
 
 . . • • 
 
 ) are Hero 
 
 in propor- 
 ,al — water, 
 lie steam. 
 jved by im- 
 such, any, 
 
 " To this one end of Discipline, all parts of nature conspire. A 
 noble thought perpetually suggests itself whether this end be not 
 the Final Cause of the Universe ; and whether nature outwardly 
 exists. It is a sufficient account of that appearance we call the 
 World, that God will teach a human mind, and so makes it the re> 
 ceiver of a certain number of congruent sensations, which we call 
 Bun and moon, man and womin, house and trade. In my utter 
 impotence to teat the authenticity of the report of my senses, to 
 know whether the iirpressions they make on me correspond with 
 outlaying objects, what difference does it make whether Orion is up 
 there in Hearen, &c. ... or, whether, w'bout relations of 
 time and space, the same appearances are inscribed in the con'^tant 
 
 faith of man" 
 
 whose " wheels and springs are all set to 
 
 the hypothesis of the permanence of nature." 
 
 "Nature is a discipline . . . space, time, society, <.bour, 
 climate, foud, locomotion, the animals, the mechanical forces, gire 
 us sincerest lessons, day by day, whose meaning is unlimited . 
 every property of matter is a school for the understanding, which 
 adds, divides, combines, measures." . . . "Meantime; E.'ison 
 transfers all these lessons into its own world of thought.' . . . 
 " Our dealing with sensible objects is a constant exercise in the ne* 
 cessary lessons of difference, of likeness, of order, of being and 
 
 seeming Proportioned to the importance of the organ 
 
 to be formed, is the extreme care with which its tuition is provided 
 .... What tedious training, day after day, year af '>r year. 
 . . . . to form the common sense; what continiml reproduction 
 of annoyances, inconveniences, dilemmas." .... "What a 
 searching preacher of self-command is the varying phenomenon of 
 Health." 
 
 The fossiliferous strata in an ascending sc .' '. <?ommencing from 
 the oldest to the most recent.' 
 
 PRIMARY. 
 
 Lower Silurian contains mvertebrate creatures: no land plants. 
 Upper SUurian — Oldest fossil jfi«A. 
 
 *For the subject-matter of this, see the "Manual " of Sir 0. Lyell, 
 whose very words are generally employed. In this list we give 
 A/ew of the (supposed) highest creatures in each stratum or group. 
 
 * 
 
h .< 
 
 156 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 * Old Btd SandtUm^-ti^^ of fish with hud eorerittgi like 
 dMloniAn: oldest known r^tile^ Arehegosannu. 
 
 (Jarbon\f«ro%u — Reptiles. 
 
 Permian or Magnetian Limtttone Group — Thecodont Saurianf . 
 
 SECONDARY. 
 
 THat or Upper New Red — Batrschian Reptileii, probablj, tracks 
 of Birde in the supposed Trias of Connecticut, and two molar teethf 
 with " the characteristic mammalian test, the double fang." 
 
 Liae — Reptiles extraordinary in number, size, and structure. 
 
 Oolite — Saurians, fljing Saurians, three species of Mammalia. 
 
 Wealden — Reptiles of the genera Pterodactyl, Iguanodon, Me- 
 galosaurus, Emys, Ac. 
 
 Oretaeeoiia — A Marine formation. A rich Reptilian Fauna ; tur- 
 tles, oviparous Saurians, Pterodactyl. 
 
 TERTIARY. X 
 Eocene — " All the Mammalia of extinct species, and the greater 
 part of them of extinct genera." 
 
 Miocene — " All the Mammalia extinct." 
 Pliocene — "Nearly, if not all, the Mammalia extinct." 
 Pleistocene — " A majority of the Mammalia extinct ; but the ge- 
 nera corresponding with those now surriTing in," kc. 
 
 POST TERTIARY. 
 Pott-Pleistocene— " Bonea of quadrupeds, partly of extinct 
 ■pecies." 
 
 Jiecent — " Hqpian remains and works of art. "| 
 
 * " The link sunplied bv the whole assemblage of imbedded fos- 
 sils, connecting as it does the paleontology of the Silurian and Car- 
 boniferous groups, is of the highest mterest, and equally 8trikin|^, 
 whether we regard the genera of corals or of shells. The spee%et 
 are almost all distinct." 
 
 t " Mr. Owen, to whom I have sho?rn a a st of the smaller tooth, 
 is not able to recognise its aflQnity with any mammalian type, recent 
 or extinct, known to him." — LyeU't Manual. 
 
 { A " Monkey of the genus Macacus . . . and other Quad- 
 nunena ... in different stages of the Tertiary."— Zy«//. 
 
 IThat an animal has not yet been detected in a formation, is in 
 f no absolute proof that it does not exist, or hps not existed, in 
 it. Only two teeth seem to testify to the existonoe of Mammalia in 
 the Trias. New facts may antiquatc, (or may hare antiquated,) our 
 present knowledge, and yet not inruidate or disturb a broad gene- 
 ralisation ; or they may. 
 
 -7i 
 
eorerittgt like 
 
 odont SauriuiB. 
 
 )robably, tracks 
 two molar teethf 
 ble feng." 
 nd structure. 
 >g of Mammalia. 
 IguanodoD, Me- 
 
 lian Fauna ; tur- 
 
 and the greater 
 
 xtinct." 
 
 inct ; but the ge- 
 
 '&c. 
 
 partly of extinct 
 
 J of imbedded fos- 
 
 Silurian and Car^ 
 
 equally striking, 
 
 liella. The tpteiet 
 
 the smaller tooth, 
 aalian type, recent 
 
 and other Qnad- 
 
 I a formation, is in 
 bPB not existed, in 
 ce of Mammalia in 
 re antiquated,) our 
 ^urb a oroad gene- 
 
 ^^m^-^n ^ 
 
 ^n.