demonstrated the utter groundlessness of the old speculative infidel dogma of the eternal duration of the world. It has corroborated the scriptural account of the creation of man at a comparatively recent epoch in the history of the globe: a fact all the more remarkable, that, in perfect harınony with the opening sentences of Genesis, it has indefinitely extended our ideas of the previous ages occupied in preparing the crust of the earth for the habitation of man. Geology, moreover, has made vast additions to natural theology, by its fresh and vivid proofs of infinite wisdom and benevolence in creation." On the other hand, no student of the rocks must pretend to tell us how this terraqueous planet was made. The glorious idea of CREATION we owe to the Bible; and none less than the Utterer of that oracle can explain the secrets of His omnipotence. "In the beginning God CREATED the heaven and the earth;" and, in full accord with this primary truth, "through faith we understand that the worlds were FRAMED (κατηρτίσθαι) by the word of God, so that" (whatever may have been the processes of preparing, adjusting, fitting down) "things which are seen were not MADE of things which do appear"had not their origin (μὴ γεγονέναι) from material already produced or brought to light. Such is our simple, sublime creed. The illustration drawn from stony registers, and applied with more or less ingenuity to the successive acts of the Creator's energy, is as yet extremely glimmering. That opinion which seemed most enchanting-an arrangement of crust, rocks, and fossils, answering to the six-days' work-is effectually dispelled; and

there is no other, in the same direction, which is not pressed by most formidable difficulties. Systems of geology, and of botany too, are aptly defined as no more than "provisional arrangements contrived to simplify the observation of facts, and serve as ladders to higher generalizations." There is no presumption, then, in saying that the balance of argument seems decidedly in favour of those who could not congratulate Hugh Miller on the change of his theory, or trace any fair correspondence be-. tween his three epochs and the three Mosaic days with which, to the exclusion of the rest, he latterly thought his favourite study conversant. Against this view Mr. Wight contends successfully, if not exhaustively. He takes Gen. i. 1 as an independent proposition, with which the sequel is not immediately connected. The chaos (Gen. i. 2) he limits to a portion of the globe, herein concurring with Dr. Pye Smith. The days he takes in their obvious sense, alleging strong reasons against the interpretation which extends them into periods of undefined length. The sacred phraseology at large, he contends, is adapted to the popular understanding, but also -as taken on its own principle, that of describing things according to their appearance-perfectly harmonious with the facts of science: a test which no human composition can endure. In many things we see with him; not, certainly, in all. But let his very agreeable treatise have the benefit of a sentence from the "recommendatory note." Dr. Alexander writes: "I am free to say, that on one or two points I do not see my way to adopt the opinion he advances; but, as a whole, I feel that a more sound, sensible, instructive, and safe book upon the subject of which it treats, could not be circulated among the inquiring and reading community of this country."

A Comparative Grammar of the Dravidian or South-Indian Family of Languages. By the Rev. R. Caldwell, B.A., Missionary of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, at Edeyenkoody, Tinnevelly, Southern India. Pp. viii., 528.-This is a valuable addition to works which elucidate the languages of India, and is written, throughout, in a scholarly and intelligible style. It will be received with great delight by all who have a relish for studies of this description. But we resist the inclination to produce a lengthy notice of the book, in order to find space for a few words on a subject of very great importance, that of writing the languages of India in the English character. Throughout the entire volume, which treats professedly of nine different languages, and abounds in quotations from many others, Mr. Caldwell uses that character only; a few dots and marks being found sufficient to indicate peculiarities of sound, in those instances which vary from the ordinary pronunciation. He has thus removed a barrier to the acquisition and comparison of languages in which every Englishman feels that he has some interest. We rejoice to hear that proposals are now under consideration by the Bible Society, for the preparation of the Tamul and other versions of the holy Scriptures in the English character. For the sake of the best interests of India, we hope that the Bible Society will yield to the proposal, and that the various Religious and Missionary

Societies will follow the same method in their publications. Its adoption would add many thousands to the readers of the word of God in India, and would be one additional means of making the English language familiar to the natives of that country.

The Book of Psalms, according to the Authorized Version : arranged in Parallelism. With a Preface and Explanatory Notes. Religious Tract Society. -A very comely volume, sure to be a favourite. To each psalm are prefixed introductory observations; and these, like the "notes," are instructive and judicious.

Blackwood's Shilling Atlas; containing thirteen Maps with coloured Outlines, Index, &c., &c. James Blackwood. - A marvel of cheapness. Who will now be without such an aid to geographical study?-But stay: here is another, at one-sixth of the price: The Scholar's Atlas, containing fourteen Maps. Drawn by W. Hughes, F.R.G.S. National Society, Sanctuary, Westminster.These are signs of the times. Hail to knowledge, as she comes down from academic halls, and sheds her beneficent rays on the cottages of the poor!

The Works of Dr. John Owen, edited by the Rev. Dr. Goold, Edinburgh, are completed in twenty-four volumes, 8vo. Of this edition, the cheapest as well as in many respects the finest, of the great Puritan divine, Messrs. T. and T. Clark have become the proprietors.

ABSENCE OF THE SUN IN THE ARCTIC REGIONS. - On the 11th of November the sun took his departure: the day was beautifully clear and serene -one of the few fine days we had lately

had, as the weather had been for the most part very tempestuous. There was scarcely a breath of wind, and the temperature had fallen to 26° below zero. When the last glimpse of the sun was revealed to us as he reached his meridian, he displayed in gorgeous splendour on the margin of the southern horizon a segment of his upper limb; and, as if to add greater effect to this his last appearance in these dreary solitudes, his rays were most truthfully reflected on the western sky, from whence, shedding their prismatic tints on the land beneath, he imparted an appearance of rare beauty to the scene, where stillness and solitude alone prevailed. Thus commenced the long Polar night of dreariness and gloom. ......Towards noon on the 3d of February the appearance of a rich golden-tinted sky, forcing its way through a dense bank of haze, which hung over the summit of the western hills, at once assured us of the proximity of the sun; and at noon our hearts were gladdened by his presence, as he lighted up the dreary region that had been eighty-three days in darkness. It was delightfully exhilarating to observe the reflection of his rays as they found their way through the chance openings of our housing, and equally so to observe our own shadows on the snow-covered waste around us. We hailed his return as an important epoch, hoping never again to lose him for so long a period, and congratulated ourselves that the darkness of an Arctic winter had nearly passed. The ice was found to have increased 134 inches during the month. - Dr. Armstrong's North-West Passage.

AN ARAB SHEIK AND AN ENGLISH CHRISTIAN. - During the time I was in Asia, (says a Christian traveller,) I had occasion to cross part of the Arabian desert toward the Red Sea. Of course, on this journey it is necessary not only to have a guide, but a body-guard; and mine was composed of eight or nine as wild and picturesque Bedouins as you could wish to see true sons of the desert and Ishmaelites of pure descent; there could not be much doubt about it.

They were faithful to me, however; and it was pleasant to gallop day after day amidst this lawless troop, sometimes conversing with the Sheik in such Arabic as I had contrived to pick up, and other times witnessing such feats of horsemanship as my guards pleased to exhibit for my amusement, or to practise for their own. In the heat of day we struck our tents (such tents!) and rested, as we did also at night. Our mid-day slumber was often the most profound and the most prolonged.

One evening we had encamped, as usual, beside a muddy fountain, secured

our horses, lighted our fire, and drunk our coffee. My guards were seated around the fire, smoking and talking, while I made an effort to sleep under the cover of the tent provided for my special use. It was all in vain. The Sheik advised me of a night-attack of marauders, not of his tribe, whom he supposed to be in our neighbourhood, but begged me not to be alarmed, for my life was precious in his hands; he would defend me to the last drop of his heart's blood.

It might be that I half believed the report, and then distrusted my respectable friend's bravery; or it might be my siesta had taken off the edge of my drowsiness, or that thoughts of home kept my mind busy, or that the coffee I had drunk had served as an antisoporific, or that the loud talking of my Bedouins disturbed me. In short, I could not sleep, and, tired of inaction, I left my tent and drew near to the fire, which was pleasant; for, hot as the days of desert-travelling, the nights are often chilly.

are

My guards made room for me as I came near; and, seating myself beside the Sheik, I lighted my pipe, and looking at the grim countenances of the ragged fellows around me, each of whom was armed with pistols stuck into the belt, and a musket within reach of his hand, I wondered what my friends in England would think, if at that moment they had

seen me.

My presence did not much disturb the loquacity of my guards; but I paid little heed to their rapid conversation, till the Sheik, turning suddenly round upon me, exclaimed,

"What strange men you Englishmen are!"

"How so?" I asked. think us strange ?"

"Why do you

"You never fast," said he.

"Not often," I replied laughingly; "that is, when we can get anything to eat."

My Arab friend laughed too: that evening we had supped sparsely from necessity. "But," said he, " is it not part of your religion? You do not pray; you do not give alms; you do nothing."

This was a home-thrust, and my conscience felt it. I had looked upon the poor fellows around me as so bigoted in their faith, and had considered myself so completely in their power, that I deemed it prudent to avoid every topic that might rouse their passions. In my solitary tent at midday I read the word of life: but I had concealed with jealous care from my guards the knowledge that I carried about me the "Christian's Koran;" and when at morning and night I commended myself in prayer to God my Maker, through Christ my Saviour, I had drawn close around me the curtain of the tent, and whispered low and fearfully, lest I should be overheard.

"You have no religion," said the Sheik : "you do not pray; you do nothing."

"God forgive me," I thought. rebuke is not altogether unjust."

"The

"Now we," continued my reproverand he went on boastingly to tell what their prophet required of them, and how faithful was their obedience in matters of devotion, charity, and self-denial; and, while he spoke, I lifted up my heart to God, and sought courage to bear a feeble testimony to His word. When the Sheik paused, I put my hand into my bosom, and drew forth a New Testament.

"I have religion," I said. "Would you like to hear what it teaches on these high matters?"

"Certainly; would I tell him?"

By this time the attention of all my guard was directed to me. Their quick, sparkling eyes were fixed fiercely, as I thought, upon me, their dark visages looking more grim by the flashing fire around which they were seated; and their hands were ready to grasp a weapon that would speedily bring down vengeance upon the head of the infidel dog who should dare to blaspheme their prophet.

"Listen," I said, as I opened the Testament at the sixth chapter of the Gospel according to St. Matthew. "You speak of almsgiving; hear what my Koran says about alms:" and I rendered into Arabic the first four verses, "Take heed that ye do not do your alms before men, to be seen of them," &c. When I stopped I looked up, and the dark countenances around me were glistening, but not with anger.

"Good!" exclaimed the Sheik; "this is very good: go on."

I gathered courage, and read again: "And when thou prayest," &c. I read, translating as I read, to the fifteenth verse. Again I looked around me.

"Bismillah! but this is wonderful! wonderful!" exclaimed one to another, stroking their beards; "wonderful!" and every harsh and forbidding feature was softened down to quiet, calm attention. "More! more!"

I read on: "Moreover, when ye fast," &c.

"Bismallah!" exclaimed the Sheik; " but this is wonderful!"

I needed no further urging on. Verse by verse, paragraph by paragraph, I read

on to the close of the chapter, interrupted by the exclamations of wonder and approbation.

"Wonderful!" said my worthy friend, the Sheik, when at length I closed the book; "but this is wonderful! And what good people you Christians ought to be!"

I never, continued my friend, forgot, and I hope never shall forget, the lesson taught me by that desert-fire. In the first place, I saw, as I had never before seen, that caution may degenerate into cowardice; and I learned, in the second place, the enemies of Christianity themselves being our judges, that if the professed followers of Christ were but in all things what they ought to be, "likeminded one toward another, according to Jesus Christ," then would they "with one mind and one mouth glorify God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ; " and the constrained verdict of the unbelieving world would be, "Nay, but this is wonderful!"

THE BLUE-STOCKING. This term, applied to a lady of some literary taste, has been traced by Mr. Mills, in his "History of Chivalry," to the Society de la Calza, formed at Venice, in 1400; "when, consistently with the singular customs of the Italians, of marking academies and other intellectual associations by some external signs of folly, the members, when they met in literary discussion, were distinguished by the colours of their stockings. The colours were sometimes fantastically blended; and at other times one colour, particularly blue, prevailed." The Society de la Calza lasted till 1590, when the foppery of Italian literature took some other symbol. The rejected title then crossed the Alps, and found a congenial soil in Parisian society, and particularly branded female pedantry. It then diverted from France to England, and for a while marked the vanity of the small advances in literature in female coteries. But the blue-stocking of the last century is of home-growth; for Boswell, in his "Life of Johnson," date 1781, records of the origin of Bluestocking Clubs: "One of the most eminent members of these societies, when they first commenced, was Mr. Stillingfleet, (grandson of the Bishop,) whose dress was remarkably grave; and in particular it was observed that he wore blue stockings. Such was the excellence of his conversation, that his absence was felt so great a loss that it used to be said, We can do nothing without the blue stockings; and thus by degrees the title

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was established. Miss Hannah More has admirably described a Blue-stocking Club, in her 'Bas-Bleu.' The last of this club was 'the lively Miss Monckton, (now Countess of Cork,) who used to have the finest bit of blue at the house of

her mother, Lady Galway." The earliest specimen on record of a Blue-stocking, or "Bas-Bleu," however, occurs in the Greek comedy, entitled, "The Banquet of Plutarch."_ Things Not Generally Known.

So still so solemn not a breath
To wake the unstirr'd solitude!
Nor wave the palms that softly droop,
As ev'n their shadows might intrude:
Amid their feathery boughs the light
In tender, quivering radiance plays,
And on the paleness of thy face
Sheds beaming lustre glory bright.

A green oasis in the wild,

O'ershadow'd by its clustering trees; A desert-sanctuary, illumed

By stars and sunsets; - where the
breeze

With anthem-echoes fills the air,
With solemn dirge, or sweetest song;
As spirit-music swept along,

As thrill'd the wilderness with prayer.

But thou ! upon that pensive brow
Are shadows sorrowful and deep,
Yet mingled with the rainbow light

Of holy love that fain would weep; Would kneel and kiss the Master's feet, In wondering gratitude and trust, And bless the love that from the dust Hath raised thee to a glorious seat !

What visions steal upon thee now,

Judæa's hills, the beauteous vales
Of Galilee, know not their God!
Thy hands the glad refreshment bring,
The sandals loose from weary feet;
He blesseth thee in accents sweet,-
HE, earth's Redeemer, Prophet, King!

Anon insulted, tortured, scorn'd,
By all forsaken-lo! He bows
In mortal agony, whilst earth
Upheaves and quakes with fearful
throes:

The sun is darken'd; from their tombs
In sudden terror start the dead!
The riven rocks are overhead, -
Afar the cloud of vengeance looms!

With throbbing heart, with burning brain,

Thou gazest on the suffering One; Thy woman's earnest heart had fain Gush'd out to save the sinless Son! Thou hadst thy meed: victorious now O'er death, the grave, He bursts their bands;

And lo! beside thee first He stands, Whilst thou in love and awe dost bow.

"Mary!" how sweet that murmur'd name!

Yes, 'tis thy Saviour's voice of love: Now through thy tears look up again, He pointeth to His home above.

Too sad, too joyous, or too deep!

Thou see'st HIM weary, sadden'd, faint, Alone amid a wondering crowd;

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"Rabboni!" ever, ever say;
Till Thou in realms of endless day

Dost bid us sing, adore, rejoice!

Easingwold, 1857.

ADELINE,