fro within the caves of ocean, by the heaving billow; or, in milder mood, listens to the fall of waters, remote from human influence, and unaided by human skill, hears also a voice within his heart that tells him there is One whom he hath not seen, but whom he must one day see. The soul, however unenlightened, however confused in its apprehension, has a pulse beating for immortality, which throbs with solemn pauses, and warns him that there is a world to come, which even now lays fast hold on him. It is a subject of curious speculation, whether it be possible, by a system of education, and a mode of treatment, entirely to extinguish, in any human breast, those solemn anticipations and mysterious conjectures which constitute a portion of humanity. The deadening effect of a life of pleasure has been depicted by moralists, and largely confessed by those who have been quickened and brought out of it. But the life of pleasure, even while it lasts, is bound up with hours of sadness, and experiences pauses, in which, reflection will force its way, and the voice of anticipation from the immortal spirit, will make itself be heard over the waste of vanity and levity. In hours of anguish, when human aid is unavailing, the spirit confesses that there is a Being far above, and too long out of sight, with whom is might and healing compassion.

Even the females of the East, enclosed in the gorgeous prisons which jealousy has assigned to them, and believing that they must look only to man as their deity, taught that the great duty of their existence is to adorn and accomplish themselves, that they may win his favor, and that their greatest transgressions consist in offending him,— even these, in their periods of Nature's sorrow, must have an inextinguishable conviction that man's help is vain. In the heart-burnings and miseries peculiar to their position, they must feel themselves capable of a higher enjoyment than what can flow from human approbation,-they must long to appeal to a tribunal more just than human justice. Prayer is the natural cry of distress. What is the poor excluded female to do? how to get vent for her woes? where to find an object for her hopes? Shut up though

she be, she has learnt that portion of the Moslem's faith, that there is one God. Is it possible, then, that even the infelicities of her portion can quench that spark of the divinity within, which prompts her to aspire after a purer state?

The question is asked in vain; for who shall answer it? Our female travellers, who have been admitted into the society of the harem, from Lady M. W. Montague downwards, have not been of a cast to search deeper than descriptions of dress, furniture, and manners. The time is yet to come, when some better spirit shall penetrate those realms of shade, and bring to light the idle superstitions, or the solemn apprehensions, which shall prove that the nature which God has made, cannot be quenched by his creatures, that his Spirit works in minds benighted in all outward means, and that the powers of the world to come are experienced even by those who are taught only the belief of a degraded immortality. M. G. L. D.

THIRD WEEK-MONDAY.

THE WOODS.-THEIR USES.

On the first sight of a large forest, a superficial observer may be inclined to ask, Why is all this waste of vegetable luxuriance? If this arrangement be indeed the work of an Intelligent Being, how comes it that He has been so laboriously busy in encumbering the earth with such a number and variety of useless trees? Would not a soil so fertile as to support these monstrous weeds, for they scarcely deserve a better name, have been more wisely and beneficently occupied with the production of less luxuriant but more profitable edible herbs; or, if there must be trees, why do they not bear fruits fit for human food?

In answer to this objection, I shall not at present recur to the view which has already been so frequently referred to in the course of this work, of the intention of the Creator that man should be saved from sinking into sloth and

insignificance by the necessity of labor, and should be stimulated to the cultivation of his mental and bodily powers, by rewards held out for his industry,-an intention which is evinced by the scope afforded for agricultural improvement, and which is incompatible with the arrangement that the objection supposes preferable. It will be my object rather to show that woods are by no means so barren and unprofitable as they are sometimes considered, but that, on the contrary, they form an important department in the economy of Nature.

The leaves are not

Every part of a tree has its use. only necessary to the growth of the tree itself, as I have elsewhere shown, but, when shed in autumn, they cover the ground so as to protect the roots from the injurious effects of the winter's frosts: while, in their decay, they furnish a manure which adds to the fertility of the soil, otherwise liable to be exhausted by the demands of a gigantic vegetation. I have already spoken of their edible fruits, and I may mention, in a single word, that their seeds, by whatever other means they are protected, whether in the form of nuts or of berries, generally furnish nourishment to some species of living creatures, and thus, either directly or indirectly, not seldom contribute to the support or enjoyment of man.

If from the seeds of trees, we turn to the bark, we shall find that this also has its important uses. I have already considered the application of certain kinds of bark to the purposes of the tanner, but this is far from being the only use to which that part of a tree has been converted. Some species of foreign bark are aromatic, as that of the cinnamon tree; others are medicinal, as the Peruvian bark; and others, again, are capable of supplying the place of hemp in the manufacture of coarse stuffs and cordages; while, from an evergreen oak in Spain, we procure that useful material of which corks are manufactured. From the bark of trees, also, various gums and resins are extracted, of the former of which, gum-arabic, and of the latter, tar, may be considered as the most common and the most useful.

In the 'Spring' and 'Summer' volumes, I have already

adverted to the various advantages of trees, and, among other particulars, have shortly noticed the adaptation of timber to the important purposes of house and ship-building, as well as of the different kinds of machinery by which man facilitates his labors, both in agriculture and manufactures. As this subject, however, belongs more particularly to that part of my plan which I have reserved for autumn, I must again place it before the attention of my readers, and, instead of going over the same ground in my own words, I am happy to employ, in an abridged form, the eloquence of that excellent French writer of the last century, whom I have already quoted more than once.

"We may easily discover in the wide scenes of Nature, a number of bodies that are very massive and compact, such as stones and blocks of marble, which we can appropriate to a variety of uses. But these are very intractable, as well as brittle, and are only useful to us by continuing in a state of immobility; whereas the most enormous masses of wood are always obsequious to the will of man. Mighty growths of wood may, by the force of blows, be driven deep either in land or water, where they will form a forest of immovable piles, that are frequently incapable of corruption, and will for ever sustain the weight of the largest structures with such a firm cohesion and equality, as are not to be obtained even from the solidity of the earth itself.

"I likewise see vast bodies of timber disposed in a very different situation. They ascend to the tops of buildings, where they strengthen the walls, and prevent them from starting from the positions assigned them; they sustain the whole pressure of a huge roof of tiles or slates, or even lead itself.

"Is it at any time necessary for trees to be in motion for the service of mankind? you will then behold immense beams, which almost appear unmanageable, moving from their places, and adapting themselves to the full play of mechanic powers. They mount aloft, they descend, they roll, they whirl along, with as much agility as force, for the accommodation of man, and to aid the inability of his feeble arms. They supply us with all those vehicles which are

IV.

X.

formed by the art of the wainwright, and with all those mighty engines which despatch more work in an instant, than could formerly be accomplished in many hours. Above all, we are indebted to the forest for those vessels that move upon the mighty waters, and resemble floating cities, which are wafted, with all their inhabitants, by the winds, from one end of the globe to the other.

"Man observed, that the animals around him were supplied with all that was necessary to their existence from the moment of their birth, and were enabled to transport themselves from place to place with surprising agility; while he himself was constrained to move, with a slow progress, in the painful pursuit of those accommodations that were dispersed at a great distance from him. He beheld other animals gliding as light as the wind, in the regions above him. He saw them cleave the air without the least impediment, and transport themselves from land to land, by a flight that was unobstructed by interposing seas. Man came into the world destitute of all these advantages, but he derived an ample equivalent from the faculty of reason, by which he compelled the terrestrial animals to direct their motions for his service. The levity of wood, the fluctuation of the waters, and the force of the winds, furnished him with expedients for procuring vehicles by land and sea, as useful as the wings of birds. When these

inventions were completed, he no longer was limited to a scanty portion of earth, but was able to transfer himself wherever he pleased. A mutual intercourse was then maintained by distant provinces. The cities that were seated on the outlets of rivers, were furnished with importations from foreign lands, which they transmitted to different parts, and diffused through a whole kingdom. All the subjects of a mighty state seemed to be approximated by these means, and associated into one city. They soon became intimate. They contributed to the aid of each other, and frequent visits were interchanged between them. I may even affirm, that the whole earth is now become but one great town, of which the continents form the different quarters. Man, since the invention and improvement of navigation, can take a progress to each extremi