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about four hundred and forty square feet. I say the the lungs for the purpose of exposure to the air, as we trachea subdivides, because it is essentially the same have previously remarked. From the lungs the bright organ, though taking on the name of bronchia. The purified blood returns by the pulmonary veins to the object of this extraordinary extension of surface is for left auricle, and from thence to the left ventricle, by the exposure of the black or venous blood, which is on the contraction of which, it is forced into the great the internal aspect of the cells, and which has been artery, and again flows to every part of the system, returned from the various parts of the system, sur- invigorating and restoring decaying organs. The vencharged with impurities, to the oxygen of the atmos- tricles of the heart contract regularly and constantphere, which is exterior. The air and blood come in ly; and so independent and vital is its power, that it contact, not immediately, but through the intervention will continue to contract for a time after being sepaof an exceedingly delicate membrane. Inspiration is rated from the body. The beautiful structure of the effected by the chest dilating and the air passively rush-heart, together with its actions, presents an astonishing ing in, and expiration is the result of contraction, by instance of the grandeur of the animal fabric. Does the various organs arranged for that purpose. this sublime and inscrutable structure constitute life? It cannot, because it is only an organ, whose office is to furnish materials for the various nutrient actions of the system, and especially for conveying blood to the lungs for purification; and, moreover, numerous animals, low in the scale of creation, are devoid of a heart, yet they have unequivocal manifestations of life.

The atmosphere, as is well known, consists of the elements oxygen, azote, carbonic acid, in the proportion of about twenty-one of the first, seventy-eight of the second, and two of the last. This is air prior to inhalation, but after that process the portion expelled is found by chemical analysis to present a large increase of carbonic acid, and decrease of oxygen; hence, But we cease not here-still we ask, What is life? it becomes obvious, that oxygen has been consumed and We are pointed to the brain-the organ of the mind, carbonic acid given out in the process of respiration. sensation, motion, and all the pains and pleasures that Respiration, by which the oxygen is enabled to act animal nature experiences. Here is that inscrutable on the black, impure venous blood, deprives it of car- complication of mind and matter-materiality and imbon, which had rendered it unfit for the uses of the materiality-physical and spiritual-which has excited system, after which it is dispensed to the various parts the wonder and admiration of philosophers from time of the system, of a bright color and pure nature, and immemorial. There is a delicate cord extending to the supplies all the materials for the nutrition of the differ- eye, bestowing vision, and establishing a communicaent organs. So important and indispensable is the tion between the two organs-another distributed to function of respiration, that it cannot be suspended for the ear enables us to appreciate sound-a third supplies a few moments without terminating the animal's exist- the organ of taste-a fourth that of odors, while others ence, because so soon as the black blood is allowed to confer the sense of touch. Motion and sensation are pass the lungs, and enter the arteries unchanged, it ex- equally derived from the brain; and in this way the ercises such a deleterious influence on the system, es- entire system is brought under its control. High over pecially the brain, that death almost instantly follows. all these, as a beacon gleaming from a promontory, is It is emphatically the breath of life. But is it life? the intellect-that principle which escapes the wreck The anatomist has demonstrated the organs by which of matter, and reappears in immortality. Again, the this process is carried on, and the physiologist has question reverts, is not this life? Surely not. One explained the vital actions that are accomplished by thought destroys that supposition. In the idiot and these organs; but we again ask, Is that life? It can- the maniac the brain is so changed, that most of the not be; because it is only a part of the complicated psychological functions are destroyed, yet the physical animal structure-only one of the many organs, which life is unchanged-the heart contracts-he breathes, being reciprocally acted on by its associate, in addition moves, feels, and sees-still he is demented. Again, a to its own intrinsic function, aids, to a prescribed ex-|brain does not exist in the lower animals, although life tent, in perfecting animal organization, and establishing animal life. In addition to this view, it may be remarked, that many of the inferior animals, in whom life is obvious, possess no distinct respiratory apparatus, so elementary being their structure, that this important function is dispensed with, while animal life remains.

is evidently bestowed upon them.

Wearied in this fruitless pursuit, let us leave the inanimate body, and contemplate the vital actions as they spring pure from a living source.

The term life does not admit of a direct and unexceptionable definition. It is a series of facts, or an asHaving failed to discover life in the lungs, the anat-semblage of phenomena peculiar to organized matter. omist and physiologist proceed in search of their object; It can only be considered in its association with mateand in the next instance remove the heart from its lo- rial agency; because an abstract view of the vital princation, and expose to view its auricles and ventricles-ciple would necessarily bring into consideration extenthe various openings for the ingress and egress of the crimson tide the veins by which blood is returned from remote parts of the body to the right auricle, from thence to the corresponding ventricle, and by a continuous stream through the pulmonary arteries to

sion, gravity, solidity, and other tangible properties of matter, sufficient to constitute a distinct essence. If life were erected into a separate organization intrinsically its own, and endowed with attributes of an independent existence, the conclusion would be irresistible,

THE MISSIONARY.

that it might exist alone without the body, and that destruction of the latter would not imply cessation of the former; consequently, death could not occur even when the body was destroyed by decomposition.

Original.

THE MISSIONARY.

BY W. GOODFELLOW.

355

It must be carefully understood here, that no referIf there is one on whom the smiles of Heaven rest, ence whatever is had to the mind, soul, or spirit, or fu- who merits the unsought applause of men, or may exture state of existence; but by the term employed, is pect a seat in heaven, it is the devoted missionary. to be understood that principle which, attached to or-There is a nobleness of soul-a sublimity of purposeganic material, establishes in it a peculiar mode of ex- a heavenly ambition demanded by the missionary enistence, and when attached to animals, especially man, terprise unknown to any other. brings the entire organization into active, harmonious union, and capacitates the individual for the exercise of intellectual and other powers, based upon and sustained by vital actions.

No little confusion arises in the discussion of this subject, in consequence of blending the intellect and vitality together, improperly supposing them convertible terms, and pointing to the same principle. A little discrimination, however, will convince us of the error. The body, the strictly physical part of our constitution, comes first in the scale of organization—above this is life, or the vital principle implanted directly by Omnipotence, though made to spring from the action and re

action of material elements, as best subserving the grand economy of the Creator, and which presided over the formation and subsequently became the great conservative principle of the animal system. And superior to all this, rising amid its own unequal sublimity, is the immortal principle of mind, for a time associated with matter, but not one of its properties.

Is there a heart unattracted by the endearments of home and of society, and who can realize nothing of the charms of social life! Breathes there the semblance of a man who does not feel

"Yes! my native land, I love thee ?" There may be; but it is not the missionary. The play-grounds of infancy, the records of childhood's unalloyed happiness are graven on his memory as with the point of a diamond. His peaceful retreat never seemed so lovely as at the moment of quitting it for ever. The bower of prayer, in its forsaken loveliness, then breathed all its freshness-exhaled all its fragrance. It seemed an unseen minstrel touched the

trembling lyre; for there whispered music too sweet for a parting strain. Then was there not a struggle in his manly bosom, when he said,

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"From the scenes I loved so well, Far away ye billows bear me?" those strong unspoken ties That bind the heart to friends and home," twine fondly round the heart of the missionary. He may wander over frozen zones, or proclaim the Gospel of peace in India's soft and sunny clime; yet an undying love of home will sometimes awaken the cherished echoes of memory. No fabled hero's heart was ever so bold-no courage listed in human strife was ever known like that of the soldier of the cross.

We have seen in the zoophyta a principle by which it accomplished a species of motion adequate to sustain its rude state of existence. That property has been termed irritability, which signifies a susceptibility to the action of stimuli, or receiving an impression from excitants to which it responds by some kind of motion. This principle of irritability, modified according to its particular location, pervades the entire animal system, and bestows on it the ability to be acted on by specific stimuli, and of receiving from them such excitation as is necessary to constitute a living being. Thus the digestive organs respond to the stimulus of food-the lungs to that of atmospheric air-the heart to the presence of blood-the muscles to the nervous pow-eration slept in the tomb. er-not intellectual-and so of other parts of the system, each responding to its appropriate stimulus, the whole modified and associated together by the nervous system, thereby constituting life.

I stood on the banks of the darkly flowing Ganges. The grove on its shore, woven with garlands of perpetual green, was consecrated to a senseless deity. An aged man was before me. His snowy-white locks streamed in the summer's breeze. He stood like a lofty pine on the mountain's brow, while the third genWith one shriveled hand he pointed to Juggernaut and its gloomy train-with the other he besought, in the silent agony of his soul, the Book of God. O, the eloquence of that look-the fervency of that tone-when he asked whether we could "To men benighted,

The lamp of life deny ?"

Life, then, is an assemblage of phenomena, peculiar to organization, which consists essentially in the capacity to be acted on by the various modifications of stimuli, appropriated to the several parts, each manifesting powers sui generis, though all intimately associated, and directed to a special object by the nervous system-wealth is heavenly joys, would hesitate to unfurl the the grand whole resulting in animal life.

"GoD will excuse our prayers for ourselves, whenever we are prevented from them, by being occupied by such good works as will entitle us to the prayers of others."

What heart is there that would not proclaim to the inquiring pagan the glad news of incarnate love? Who that loves the world bright with glories, whose

banner of the cross, and clothed in the armor of truth, plant its standard on the battlements of the enemy? Who would wish any higher joy-a happier way to glorious death! What though arid sands on some drear shore drink his life-blood-though no fond parent may smooth his dying pillow-though no soft accents

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ANCIENT FORTIFICATION.

of a sister's voice steal over his senses-though no || from the plain, which stretches off in the distance tonotes of prayer waft his soul as it wings its way to wards the southwest. The other two lines present glory, yet his happy spirit would be conveyed through such bold fronts as would be forbidding to a greatly suthe shining portals near to the everlasting throne. perior foe.

glided the bark of many a warrior, armed with his bow and war-club, sent from this place of rendezvous to reconnoiter the surrounding country.

The tear of unavailing sorrow rises unbidden at the The point of projection commands a lovely view of thought of that portion of mankind in which there the river as it rolls placidly in its onward course, blooms not the Rose of Sharon-where the dawning of narrowed up by the rising hills and projecting rocks, the Sun of righteousness has never dispelled their un- which have stood in terrific grandeur since the combroken moral night. We behold the genius of deso-mencement of time. Upon its bosom, perhaps, has lation reigning over many a lovely region of classic memories, bright with the associations of other days. No lofty spires point, in their silent majesty, to Him whose pavilion is above the clouds, and whose dwelling is in the humblest heart. But over all this gloom there rises the bright and morning Star. Soon shall that beauteous orb, emblem of peace and herald of love, become the source of attraction to a fallen world, and throwing its mild influence over the human family, shall draw earth upward to heaven.

Original.

ANCIENT FORTIFICATION.

BY R. SAPP.

"I do love these ancient ruins

We never tread upon them, but we set
Our foot upon some rev'rend history."

THERE exists, on the south bank of a stream in Ohio, ten miles below where Kenyon College has reared its classic walls, the remains of a very ancient fortification, which has not been noticed in any work published on the antiquities of this country. In the selection of this spot for a fortification, the besieged displayed military skill of the highest order. This, I believe, is the fact with all the numerous remains of ancient works on the continent.

And here, after having wandered over and around these aged ruins-after having surveyed their remains, and scanned their bulwarks, the antiquary comes to a stand. He enters into deep thought upon the past. He here beholds the ruins of works caused by a contest which took place between generations who have slept in the dust for centuries. He inquires in his silently revolving mind, what army could have formed this wall for a defense against an invading enemy? Were the besieged or the besieging the victors? Was the contest long and severe? and was it one for national existence, or was it internal discord? Does this fortification belong to that great class which is scattered from the lakes, in the north, to California and Mexico, in the south? and was this one built by the race of Acetecks who receded from the northeast, in a southwestern direction, before a hardy and warlike race, who issued from the north, and drove them from their fortifications, cities, and cultivated fields? If so, how many centuries have swept over these ruins since that grand drama took place, which buried a great, and perhaps a noble race of people in the shades of oblivion? Were they a race different in habits, customs, nature, and form, from the present peeled and riven people who inhabit our forests? These and many similar questions can be answered with as much certainty as Echo

inquiring after his departed friends, which is so beau-
tifully presented in the following lines by Khosroo, an
eminent Persian poet-

"Weeping, I pass'd the place where lay my friends,
Captured by death: in accents wild, I cried,
Where are they? and stern Fate, by Echo's voice,
Returned the solemn sound, the sad 'where are they?"

* See Harrison's discourse before the Historical Society of Ohio.

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This fortification is in the shape of a scalene trian-answered the disconsolate Persian, who was weepingly gle. Two of its angles are formed by nature's own handiwork, in the projection of a strip of table land to a point extending to the bed of the river. The north angle is a ledge of unbroken rock, varying from forty to fifty feet in height above the low water mark of the river, at the base of which the stream rapidly glides. The southeastern angle is formed by a similar ledge of rock, with projecting shelves, varying from fifteen to thirty feet in height, having its base guarded by a deep ravine. Through this ravine passes a beautiful rivulet, which, two hundred yards from the fortification, pitches over a ledge of rocks fifteen feet in height, forming a "In the obscurity of retirement, amid the squalid pov. beautiful cascade. The remaining angle was formed erty and revolting privations of a cottage, it has often by a stone wall and ditch. This wall is twenty rods been my lot to witness scenes of magnanimity and selfin length, and is now in a greatly dilapidated condition. || denial, as much beyond the belief, as the practice of the When the first inhabitants settled the country, it varied great; a heroism borrowing no support, either from the from three to five feet in height. It is now nearly on gaze of the many or the admiration of the few, yet floura level with the surrounding earth, many of the stone ishing amidst ruins, and on the confines of the grave; a having been removed for building material. The re-spectacle as stupendous in the moral world, as the Falls mains of the ditch are yet apparent the entire length of Niagara, in the natural; and, like it doomed to disof the wall. On this line the attack would be made play its grandeur where there are none to appreciate it."

DEITY AND NATURE,

357

Original.

DEITY AND NATURE.

BY W. F. LOWRIE.

mountains, but is commonly imbedded in slate rocks of coarser kinds. The beds are often of considerable thickness, and generally rise to an elevated angle. On the banks of the Susquehannah, in Maryland, slate rocks abound, which, in some places, are rich in beds of roof and drawing varieties. Mountains of slate are seldom inclined to the horizon at as great an angle as those of granite or any other primary rock. They are covered with verdure on their declivities, as they contain less silex, and a greater proportion of alumine, iron, and those earths which are favorable to vegetation. Slate is regarded as amongst the most metalliferous rocks. Nearly all the principal metallic ores have been found in it, either in the form of veins or beds; but flinty slate seldom contains repositories of metallic matter.

THE next class of rocks in the upward progress of the geological column, is the transition-which name they received from the German geologists, on the supposition that they were formed while the world was passing from an uninhabitable to an inhabitable state. They are in general less chrystalline than primary rocks-contain occasionally organic remains of animals, and also fragments of the preceding class. They are found interposed between the rocks of the primary and those of the secondary classes, and often partake of the character peculiar to both. It is not always the case that transition rocks occur between the primary and secondary classes, there being, in some situations, an en- Greywacke received its name from the German geoltire absence of them. This is the case between Cler-ogists, and may be described as a coarse slate containmont and Lyons in France, where the regular coal strata ing fragments of other rocks, varying in size from two repose upon a bed of sand, clay, and water-worn pebbles and boulders, which again immediately cover granite. A similar occurrence is met with at Richmond, Va., the coal there found lying on a like bed of gravel, which also rests on granite.

The following arrangement of transition rocks comprises the lowest rocks in which organic bodies occur, and those which are either themselves metalliferous, or are associated with such rocks.

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The conformable rocks, or those whose strata on each other in a parallel direction, are slate, greywacke, and transition limestone-those which are thrown upon and amongst these, in an irregular manner, are porphyry, with its varieties of trap and greenstone, clink stone passing into basalt, and basalt.

Slate is a rock more or less earthy in its texture, as it recedes from or approaches the primitive class. Its colors are various shades of gray, inclining to blue, green, purple, and red. It may be split into thin laminæ, which are used as paving stones, roof and writing slates. Slate rocks abound in most mountainous regions, reposing on granite, gneiss, or mica slate. They are divided into beds of various thickness, generally much elevated, and frequently forming, from the natural divisions of the rock, peaked and serrated mountains. The quality of slate rocks varies considerably, even in the same mountain. Those which contain a quantity of siliceous earth pass into flinty slate. When magnesia is present in abundance, the slate becomes green in color, saporonaceous or greasy to the touch, and is termed chloritic or talcose slate. Whetstone slate is a variety containing small grains of quartz, or sand. When these are extremely minute, and the slate has a uniform consistence, and the necessary degree of hardness, it furnishes hones of the best quality. Carbon first makes its appearance in slate rocks. Drawing slate contains eleven per cent. of this substance; and when it exists in greater quantities, it renders the slate darker and softer, and is termed graphic slate, because sometimes used as a pencil.

That variety termed roof slate seldom forms entire

or three inches to the smallest grain perceptible to the naked eye. When these particles become extremely minute, the rock then passes into slate-when they are numerous, and the cement by which they are united is scarcely perceptible, greywacke becomes sand-stone, or grit-stone-when larger and augular, it is termed a brecchia, with a slaty cement-when rounded, an ancient pudding-stone. Rocks of greywacke frequently have a slaty structure, when they are termed grey wacke slate.

The fragments of which greywacke is composed are the debris of older rocks that have been broken down by the ordinary action of the elements upon them, and by the extraordinary operation of some great catastrophes, and have been mingled with more recent beds at the period of their formation, which shows that a considerable space of time must have elapsed between the formation of the primitive and transition classes. The imbedded fragments are always those of primary, never of newer rocks. In some places immense fragments of loose conglomerate, composed of large fragments and boulders of lower rocks, separate the slate rocks from the transition limestone. Such conglomerates may be regarded as occupying the place of greywacke, and belonging to that formation. The same remark will apply to what is termed the old red sand-stone, which only differs from the greywacke in the unimportant point of color. It has been observed that this rock is fragmentary, and the greywackes of the Chaudiere Falls, in Lower Canada, of Rhode Island, and the Catskill mountains, furnish striking examples of this fact. On the Potomac, about twenty miles above Washington City, a mass of brecciated marble occurs among the transition rocks. It is a remarkably firm and hard rock, composed of ovoidal and angular pebbles, which appear to have received their shape from the friction of rolling on each other in disturbed water. The cement is a quantity of the same substance more minutely pulverized; but neither it nor the pebbles are exclusively calcareous.

Transition limestone. This is one of the most im

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DEITY AND NATURE.

portant of this class of rocks. Its mineral characters || sailed for that metal, it is sometimes found thus dissemvary considerably, according to the nature of its asso- inated, but is generally in the vicinity of a vein of the ciate rocks. It has generally a subchrystalline texture, ore. This is also the case with the lead ores in the and is more or less translucent on the edges; and from western part of the United States, in the silver mines the hardness it possesses, it will take a good polish. of Mexico, and elsewhere. Large masses of ores, esMost of the colored marbles are transition limestone. pecially of iron, are sometimes found in rocks; but as The prevailing color is bluish gray; but it is sometimes they are generally produced by the meeting of numerred, brown, or black. The brown beds are beautifullyous veins, or are parts of beds that are greatly enlarged, variegated, veined, and spotted. Transition limestone they may be described with beds and veins. Some is not as perfectly chrystalline as the primary, and has metallic ores occur in the form of regular strata, alterrarely the compact and earthy texture of secondary. nating with other rocks. This is frequently the case It occurs in beds alternating with slate, greywacke,||with iron ore, which alternates with coal, coal-shale, greywacke slate, red sand-stone, and coarse grit-stone. and sand-stone, and often forms beds of considerable Amongst the most chrystalline of the transition mar-thickness between gneiss, mica slate, and slate. bles are the limestones of Derbyshire, in Scotland, and When beds of metallic matter swell out irregularly the fossilized animals are themselves often beautifully to a considerable thickness, they form masses of ore chrystalline in their structure. Many of the marbles which sometimes attain the magnitude of small mounfound in the United States are subchrystalline, as those tains. Such are those of Sweden, Norway, some in of Bennington, Middlebury, and Swanton, in Ver- Siberia, and others in Missouri and Arkansas. Metalmont-the latter, on Lake Champlain, are translucent lic veins appear to have been originally fissures, cutting on the edges, and evince a previous state of chemical through different beds of rock, which have been aftersolution. Those of Hudson, N. Y., are similar, and wards filled with metallic ores intermixed with other abound with the remains of encrinites. The primary mineral matter of a different kind from the rock which and transition classes are the chief repositories of me- is intersected. Metallic veins are found principally in tallic matter; and amongst these slate is regarded as primary and transition rocks, or in the very lowest of one of the most metalliferous, as nearly all the principal the secondary strata, and are frequently separated from metallic ores have been found in it. The rocks them- the rocks they pass through by a thin wall of mineral selves are composed of metallic bases united with oxy-substance, distinct from the rock, and sometimes also gen; and strange as it may appear to the uninitiated, by a layer of clay on each side of the vein. The same the dark blue limestone, massive granite, and sparkling substance which forms the outer coat of the vein is frechrystal, may be reduced to a metal combined with ox-quently intermixed with the ore, or forms layers, alterygen. The difference between a pure metal and an earth, in regard to their external characters, is so great, that at first we find some difficulty in conceiving how metallic matter can have formed beds, veins, and nu-alizer, and the termination ret to the mineralizer exmerous granular deposits in the solid rocks that forms presses the compound. Thus sulphur and lead are the crust of the earth; but when, as has been already termed sulphuret of lead. When, however, an acid stated, chemistry shows us the composition of these and metal are combined the termination ate expresses rocks, and the soils they form to be metallic, the subject || the union; as, carbonic acid and copper form the ore appears no longer difficult to comprehend.

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nating with it. This is termed the matrix, gangue, or vein-stone. When the metal is chemically combined with any other substance, the latter is termed a miner

called carbonate of copper. In the case of the ore and vein-stone occurring in an alternating form, it would appear as though they had been formed over each other on the sides of the vein, at various periods, until they ultimately met and filled up the fissure. Sometimes the ore extends in a compact mass from one side of the vein to the other. This is generally the case in the

Druses are cavities which not unfrequently occur in veins, and are beautifully lined with chrystals of the most perfect forms. Metallic veins often divide and

Metals are found in the oldest rocks of our earth in various forms. Of these iron is the most abundant, being found in association with earths in almost all rocks that are not white; and to its presence they most generally owe their color, whether it be red, brown, or black. The other metals rarely occur chemically combined with rocks, but are found forming large beds be-lead mines of Missouri, Iowa, &c., &c. tween earthy strata, or veins that intersect rocks vertically, or nearly so, or scattered in grains or irregular pieces. Except gold and platina, metals rarely occur in their pure state, but are generally chemically com-unite again, and separate into small branches called bined with either sulphur, oxygen, or acids, and in this condition are called ores, but when pure are named native metals; as native, or virgin gold, iron, copper, &c. The two classes of rocks which have been described, frequently contain metallic substances, profusely dis-tirely giving out. In Europe, the mines are carried on seminated through them. When this is the case, the whole rock is worked as a mine. This, however, does not commonly occur. In the tin mines, in Cornwall, in England, to which it is probable the Phoenicians

strings. Veins are seldom rich at the surface, but become richer as they descend, and at greater depths become poorer again, so as not to be worth working. No instances have been found, however, of a vein en

at considerable depths; thus in the Dalcoath mine, in Cornwall, England, copper and tin are found in considerable quantities at the depth of 1368 feet. The deepest mine in England is the Ecton, in Staffordshire,

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