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From The Press.

METAPHYSICS.

WE are frequently told that we live in a very materialistic age, which, where it is not wholly absorbed in pleasure and amusement, only cares about intellectual exertion in its bearing on political objects or the pursuit of wealth. Our ears, it is said, are stuffed with cotton, and thereby dead to the "voices of the Infinite," and regardless of all the great problems of the soul and the universe. In spite of all this, however, metaphysics continue to flourish and abound, and as they excite controversy, we conclude that they find readers. Those who are inclined to take a gloomy view of the fortunes of abstract thought, may be re-assured when they see the number of works devoted to it which are constantly appearing. The circles made by Mr. Mansel's plunge into that "Parson's Pleasure," the "Limits of Religious Thought," are still spreading. To Mr. Maurice has succeeded as a critic of that work Dr. John Young, who takes the field in a book entitled "The Province of Reason." Mr. Mansel's article on "Metaphysics," in the Encpclopædia Britannica, is also about to appear in a separate form. The Bampton lecturer's metaphysical opinions are also the subject of a chapter in Dr. Whewell's "Philosophy of Discovery," which forms the concluding portion of his great work on the Inductive Sciences in general. The Master of Trinity has also nearly ready a second volume of his "Platonic Dialogues for English Readers"—and Oxford adds her quota to the appreciation of the academic sage through Mr. Poste, of Oriel, who has lately published a translation of the Philebus. Scotland is represented by Dr. M'Cosh, who has brought out a large volume of the "Intuitions of the Mind." Mr. Bains' Psychology forms the subject of an article in the new number of the National Review. Mr. Craik appears with an enlarged and revised edition of his Introduction to Bacon (our

interest about whom is at the present day purely of a speculative kind); and the University of Dublin, seldom behindhand in matters of pure philosophy, is to be represented by the Rev. J. Macmahon's "Treatise on Metaphysics, chiefly in connection with Revealed Religion."-What degree of interest on the part of the general public this metaphysic crop really represents, it is difficult to say, because readers are now so numerous, and the quantity of books published so far beyond any one's power to keep up with, that there has come to be a special public for every thing. The question, however, is likely to be tested by Mr. Herbert Spencer, who has issued proposals for publishing, by subscription, a connected series of philosophical works, to form a complete system. London readers would not expect such a project to succeed, but they are perhaps unaware what a considerable following Mr. Spencer has in the provinces. At Bradford, for instance, as we hear, he is a sort of Pope-enjoying a reputation like Voltaire's at the time when that potentate's influence was greatest. No thinker, except perhaps Mr. Mill, is considered worthy of being placed anywhere near him; and even the latter philosopher's views are now, probably, not so palatable as formerly to the thorough-going advocates of universal suffrage and redistribution of landed property. While we are on the subject of metaphysics, we will take an opportunity of suggesting a reprint in this line to some (in both senses) speculative publisher. Mr. Bohn has issued a translation of Kant's Kritih, but readers often require some additional help besides a translator's notes. We wonder that no one has thought of republishing in a separate volume Mr. Wirgman's articles on Kant, which appeared many years since in the Encyclopædia Londinensis. They form the easicst introduction to the German philosopher with which we are acquainted.

ARSENIC IN AGRICULTURAL PLANTS.-Dr. J The arsenic, being thus proved to enter vegetaE. W. Davy has detected arsenic in peas, cab- tion, may very easily and naturally pass into anbages, and Swedish turnips, which had beenimals, and be retained in their organism. This manured with superphosphate of lime. This is another striking, presumptive proof of the fertilizer is very extensively manufactured in worthlessness of that toxological evidence which England, especially for use on the turnip crop, hangs a man on the strength of minute traces from various phosphatic minerals, and from of arsenic being found in working up several bones, by the help of arsenical oil of vitriol. pounds of flesh and viscera.

13

From The Constitutional Press Magazine. THE KOOLAGH: OR, SNOWSTORM AT

ERZROOM.

BY THE REV. JOSEPH WOlff, d.d., ll.D.

The city of Erzroom, with about forty thousand inhabitants, stands on level ground about six thousand feet above the sea. It is situated at the foot of Mount Ararat, surIt was in the month of December, 1843, rounded by a mountainous range, and is apthat I left Trebizond for Erzroom, on my proached by narrow passes, often with preciway to Bokhara for the second time, the ob- pices at the side, into which, when the frozen ject now being to ascertain the fate of Col- snow lies deep, the traveller and his mule by onel Stoddart and Captain Conolly. I was a single false step disappear forever. The going thither in the character of an English climate of Erzroom experiences the two exdervish-a holy man, whom even the most tremes of heat and cold; and the temperabarbarous eastern tribes were likely to re-ture in winter freezes the breath of the travspect, and allow to pass unmolested; and eller into icicles, which rattle on his beard therefore my dress consisted of a clergyman's and moustache. preaching gown, a doctor's hood, and shovel hat. Our small party included only three souls, viz., an excellent Tartar, who was sent with me by the pacha of Trebizond; his servant Michalovitch, who was a Russian; and myself. The distance betwixt Trebizond and Erzroom is about one hundred and fifteen miles; and in summer the journey may be performed in four days; in the depth of winter, however, it is very different; and we were more or less wading, from the 1st to the 10th of December, up to our necks in snow, before we reached our place of destination.

On our way we lodged, at night, in the abodes of the poor mountaineers, in huts and occasional small villages. Some of these people being Turks, and some Armenians, who received us very kindly in their meagre, but not uncomfortable, homes; where, fatigued with travelling on horseback, which never suited me, and almost frozen to death, I was thankful to lie down and rest, and have the provisions we had brought with us cooked in their simple way.

During the journey, we passed through the Armenian town of Goomish-khanah, where there are silver mines; and the bishop hospitably entertained us there; and another time we rested at the house of an Armenian merchant, who enlivened our evening with the timbrel and dance. We also halted at Bayboot, where the reception was not so friendly; for an Armenian, recently come from Jerusalem where the English bishopric had just been established, spread a suspicion that this had been done with a view to uproot the Armenian Church there. On reaching Erzroom, I was received with open arms in the houses of my English friends, Mr. Brandt the consul, Colonels Williams and Farrant, Mr. and Mrs. Redhouse, and the Hon. Robert Curzon; and the last named gentleman being very ill at this time, I visited him, and administered the Holy Communion

to him.

*Now Sir William Fenwick Williams, of Kars, Bart.

In addition to the kindness which I received from my countrymen at Erzroom, the Pasha Al-Haj-Khaleel-Kamelee called on me, and said he should not allow me to spend one farthing in travelling through the province; and so my Christmas was most agreeably passed, and I intended to resume my journey towards Persia in the beginning of January. But on the day of my intended departure, before I set out-very early in the morning-a caravan of Persian merchants, with sixty mules laden with goods, and accompanied by a French physician who was employed in the Turkish service, and was on his way to Bayazeed, started on their road, whilst I was to follow them about noon, when the weather, which had been threatening, was expected to have cleared up. According to this advice and arrangement of my friends, I deferred my leavetaking for a few hours, and was then accompanied to the outskirts of the town by a cavalcade, for we were all on horseback, which consisted of Colonels Williams and Farrant, Messrs. Brandt and Redhouse, and Zohrab, Mr. Brandt's dragoman, who had assembled to witness my departure, and cheer me on the road. But now, let. us pause a moment at this spot outside of Erzroom, and survey the scene before us. In front was the lofty Ararat, rising to more than seventeen thousand feet (called Agra-Dagh by the Turks), which was split and broken by chasms and precipices on every side; and from its highest points mighty avalanches were falling, and dealing destruction on all below. remarkable in this region, that so long as the skies are covered with mist, and the air blows mildly, the traveller may proceed on his way in safety; but woe to that wretched man who is caught in the midst of the mountains, when a chilling wind portends the coming storm. Soon and suddenly shrieks are heard from all sides, koolagh, koolagh, koolagh! which may be translated" snowspout," and which is more sudden in its arrival, and far more dangerous in its course, than all the sammooms that ever swept the

It is very

desert. For from these the traveller can | claimed, "I will give you a toast, in Tenedos protect himself, by lying down; but not so, wine, which we will drink with three times if overtaken by the dreadful koolagh. This three-Wolff's health! and a happy journey, terrific foe is no common snow-shower from and safe return to him from Bokhara!" The the clouds, but it comes when no cloud is to colonel then filled his glass, and began "Hip! be seen. The air blows intensely cold, freez- hip!"-but before the word was thrice reing your fingers as you hold the mule's peated, the sky broke out clear, the chillbridle, and your feet in the stirrup and, ing wind burst forth, and shrieks from the almost instantaneously, the beast which car- town, from the adjoining houses, and from ries you may be floundering body deep in the escort of soldiers, "koolagh! koolagh! snow, whose sharp particles, dashed against koolagh!" announced the presence of the your face, cut the skin and blind the eyes; dreadful visitant. and in the next moment you may fall over a precipice and be lost.

The koolagh is thus caused. A great circulation of wind immediately follows upon the withdrawal of the clouds; and rushing in draughts from all sides through the clefts of the mountains, it sweeps the snow from every crevice and corner, and forming a kind of whirlwind, it carries up the frozen snow from the ground in a column, which falls and buries every thing beneath. Such is the koolagh, or snow-spout-the most dreadful enemy which the traveller in these parts has to encounter. When it breaks forth death stares him in the face on every side; the fearful coldness of the wind is such that he realizes Dante's idea of the death by cold in hell-that overpowering cold which destroyed an army of five hundred thousand men in Russia. The snow, congealed together, comes down upon him on all sides. He is rendered powerless in his frozen body, hands, and feet; whilst the maddened animal he rides on, rushes down the snow-filled chasm, and neither rider nor horse are ever seen again. Happier is he who is at once crushed by the mighty avalanche.

All of us had but one instant allowed for slipping into shelter, before the "snowspout" had arrived with all its desolating strength. The whole town was at once so completely buried in snow, that when, in a few minutes, I sought to regain my lodgings which were close at hand, I could not reach them till after a struggle of two hours through the frozen mass, which filled the streets. Three days after this occurrence, the dead bodies of the merchants and the French physician who had gone out of the town in the morning of the day on which I intended to start, were brought back; but very little of their merchandize could be recovered.

In a few days I proceeded on my journey, divested of my snow dress, and arrived safely at the monastery of Kara-Kleesia, near which one hundred and twenty four thousand Armenians were baptized by the great Gregory Lusawritsh, who founded both that, and the monastery of Etsh-Miazin. And thanks be to thee, good Gregory Lusawritsh—justly called Lusawritsh, which means "the Enlightener," for thou didst enlighten King Tirtat, and thy nation with the light of the gospel! Yes, again, I thank thee, thou With the best hopes that I should escape founder and builder of the monastery of any danger on my way, Colonel Williams Kara-Kleesia, for what could I have done would nevertheless not allow me to depart in my journey, when I arrived at the spot, from Erzroom, without more protection where thy house of pious hospitality stands, against the inclement weather, than the if this monument of thy love had not been clerical dress in which I had been travelling at hand to receive me for there again-the afforded. He therefore enveloped me in second time-I heard the shrieks, "Koolagh! huge trousers, and a loose coat lined with koolagh!" and had only just time to reach wolf's skin: a woollen shawl was tied round the homestead of the worthy monks, who my waist, and my legs were thrust into jack-recognized and welcomed their old friend boots, with fur inside that rose to my hips; Joseph Wolff.

and in this unmanageable dress-which I Traveller, remember, and be on your guard eventually discarded as soon as I was out at Sultaniah; nor venture to travel there, as of sight of my friends, and fairly set off on I did, during December and January, lest my journey-I was now sitting on horseback you hear the shriek-the fatal shriek, "Koowith the rest, whilst Colonel Williams ex-lagh!"

GOD'S HORologe.

HARK! God's horologe is strikingIn yon vaulted dome above; Myriad, myriad orbs triumphant March majestic to the chant,

Hymning God's exhaustless love.
Hark! God's horologe is striking-
Earth's "orbed maiden" hears the call,
Throws off her dew-besprinkled hood,
And steps in loving servitude,

To scatter light and peace o'er all.
Hark! God's horologe is striking-
Wild ocean rolls in ceaseless sweep,
By vaster higher influence bound,
In ebb and flow still circling round,
His waves the measured cadence keep.
Hark! God's horologe is striking-

From lowly nest the lark up-springing,
Soars boldly to God's throne on high,
Pouring his lavish minstrelsy

To shame our feeble earthly singing.
Hark! God's horologe is striking-

Each tiny form of loveliness,
Each insect frail, each perfumed flower,
Starts into life to bless the Power
That willed its being for an hour,
And dies in quiet thankfulness.
Hark! God's horologe is striking,
Shall man alone refuse to hear?
Still grovel in life's miry ways,
Forget his little share of praise,

Nor track a Father's footsteps near?
God's horologe will strike once more;
It may be in the dead of night,
When conscience has put out her light,
And loving beacon-fires are o'er.
God's horologe will strike for thee!

Canst thou look up in his pure eyes?
Hop'st thou to hear his cry, "Well done?"
Is thy bright crown of victory won,

That waits thee now in Paradise? -Englishwoman's Journal.

E. G. H.

CHURCH'S PICTURE, "TWILIGHT IN THE

WILDERNESS."

AROUND this soft, though lonely scene,
Twilight breathes thoughtfulness serene.
It is the holiest hour of day.

Then hearts are touched by every ray
Which welcome dearer, surer wins,
Than joy's high noon of glaring light,
Or flaming morn, when youth begins
To gaze with hope's entrancing sight.
The picture saddens, yet inspires
Eve's pensive tears, the glowing fires
Reflected from the hidden sun
Have here commingled victory won,
Which the subdued, calm spirit owns,
While, to its ear revealing tones,

Seem all the sky, the river still,
The purple hills, the air to fill;
And Memory, startled in her bower,
Obeys the music of the hour,
Happy the skill which thus can make
Colors, like tones, the heart awake.
Not hues of gold and emerald blended,
Where sky to earth has softly bowed,
With deep, empurpled haze attended,
Not the bright bars of crimson cloud,
That cross the highest sky, and shine
As if with their own light, combine
With waving hills and leaves that glow,
Each like a trembling, glancing star;
And waters that in silence flow,
And gleam through deepening shades afar
Not all these hues, and light, and shade,
With which the landscape is arrayed,
Combine so deeply to impress

The soul with Nature's loneliness.
And splendor, as they prove the power,
To give to thought her genial dower,
And to sincere emotion sway;
For, this soft close of beauteous day,
Though in the distant wilderness,
Which human footsteps seldom press,
Where is no sign of human life
Or human care or human strife,
Is full of gentlest sympathy,
And glows with sweet humanity.
It speaks and sings, and breathes of love,
Which earth like heavenly vesture wears,
The priceless gift of skies above;
And every heart that gift which shares,
With nature gleaming in the smiles
Of the sun's radiance, as he springs,
Or reigns at noonday, or beguiles
With plaintive light his setting brings,
Shall feel the tenderness conveyed
By brightness softening thus to shade,
And shall derive a blessing fair
From every ray that glances there.
Though sadness be the undertone
From this sweet harp of colors thrown,
Yet gladness strikes, in turn, the chords,
And tempered joyfulness affords
The kind transitions, gentle changes
Of feelings sombre, cheerful ranges,
When smiles and tears, in harmony,
Obey alternate melody.

This benison the picture shows,
While parting day in beauty glows,
That memory has a force divine,

To make life's sombre scenes to shine
With light whose blended rays shall give
Power in the joyful past to live,
And that hope, also, can bestow
A grace fulfilment cannot know.
So, "Twilight in the Wilderness"
Shall on the heart the lesson press
Of patience, glorifying sorrow,
And waiting for a blissful morrow.
W. G. D.

-N. Y. Evening Post.

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