opposition to a measure of which it heartily approves will melt into nothingness. No delusion is more likely to serve the purposes of the Illiberals than that which is so sedulously fostered by certain writers in this country— we mean the delusion that the Bishops and Clergy of Ireland do not fairly represent the ideas of the people at large, as whose natural leaders, even on subjects outside the strict pale of religion, they have been so long forced to act. No shadow of an argument should be left to those who are so anxious to persuade themselves and the world at large that the laity of Ireland are more willing than their Pastors to accept of that mixed Education, which is not only so dangerous to sound Catholic principle, but which is objected to as un-Christian by the great majority of thoughtful persons among Anglicans, Presbyterians, and the most influential Dissenting communities. It has, in truth, few honest advocates, except those who believe very little themselves and think that they are bound to save everyone else from the great misfortune of believing more. The Autumn of Life. FLING down the faded blossoms of the Spring, The gladness of great calm-the Autumn rest, Ah, I remember how in early days The primrose and the wind-flower grew beside And I remember how in Life's hot noon Around my path the lavish roses shed Breathed rapture-now those summer days are fled, Days of sweet peril, when the serpent lay Lurking at every turn of life's enchanted way. The light of Spring, the Summer glow, are o'er, The tender green is gone from field and tree; Brown barren sprays stand clear against the blue, And leaves fall fast, and let the truthful sunlight through. For me the hooded herbs of Autumn grow, Square-stemmed and sober tinted; mint and sage, Horehound and balm-such plants as healers know. And the decline of life's long pilgrimage Is soft and sweet with marjoram and thyme, Bright with pure evening dew, not serpent's glittering slime. And round my path the aromatic air Breathes health and perfume, and the turfy ground With little thornless blossoms that abound What is there to regret? Why should I mourn Safer and not less beautiful--and blest With glimpses, faint and far, of the long wished-for Rest. Is it an evil to be drawing near The time when I shall know as I am known, Is it an evil that the sky grows clear, That sunset light upon my path is thrown, That truth grows fairer, that temptations cease, And that I see, afar, a path that leads to peace? Is it not joy to feel the lapsing years Calm down one's spirit? As at eventide After long storm the far horizon clears, The sky shines golden and the stars subside; Stern outlines soften in the sunlit air, And still as day declines, the restful earth grows fair. And so I drop the roses from my hand, And let the thorn-pricks heal, and take my way, Down hill, across a fair and peaceful land Lapt in the golden calm of dying day; Glad that the night is near, and glad to know That rough or smooth the way, I have not far to go. SALVIA. The Earth's Magnetism. NEARLY half a century ago Arago remarked that "nothing in the vast domain of terrestrial physics is more obscure or more uncertain than the causes which everywhere occasion the variation of the earth's magnetism. The magnificent discoveries,” he added, "which have been made in recent times on the connection of heat and electricity with magnetism have scarcely taught us anything respecting the phenomena of terrestrial magnetism." But even as he wrote, the records of recent observationsamongst others the valuable series of observations he had himself made-were being successfully scrutinised; Colonel Sabine was coordinating the magnetic phenomena witnessed in various parts of the earth; Gauss was investigating the mathematical problems associated with the subject; and Father Secchi, of the Collegio Romano, was pursuing his unrivalled series of researches into the laws which regulate the diurnal and annual variations of the magnetic needle. Under the labours of these eminent men, and others who have been associated with them, terrestrial magnetism has taken its place as one of the most interesting and suggestive of all the subjects which scientific men have as yet taken in hand. The phenomena it presents have been shown to be not merely striking and significant, but to be characterised by the peculiarity of their relations to time and space, the changes going on occupying not days or weeks, but decades and centuries for their full development, while they form part of a systematic process of variation whose field of action is not a country or a continent, but the whole globe of the earth. We propose briefly to sketch some of the more remarkable of the phenomena which terrestrial magnetism presents to our contemplation. If a magnetised needle be suspended in the ordinary mannerthat is with freedom to play in a horizontal plane-the first peculiarity which strikes us in its behaviour is that it does not point to the true north. In this country, and in fact in all parts of Western Europe, there is a well-marked deviation towards the west. In other regions the westerly deviation is different in amount; in some places there is no deviation; and over a large part of the earth's surface the deviation is easterly. This peculiarity of the magnetic compass is called by sailors, the variation; but for very sufficient reasons, scientific men are not satisfied with this term, and therefore in all scientific treatises the deviation of the magnet from the north point is called the declination. Now if any one were to voyage over every part of the earth's surface, observing and recording the magnetic declination wherever he went, and if he were then to map them down upon a Mercator's chart of the earth, he would find that amidst many irregularities there would be certain very well-marked features of coordination. Joining together all those stations where a particular westerly or easterly declination was observed, he would find that the lines thus drawn formed a sort of meridianal system, which converges towards two nearly opposite points on the earth's surface, corresponding in a sense to the poles which are the points of convergence of the ordinary meridians. And he would find that these two magnetic poles lie not very far from the arctic and antarctic circles; in other words, that the axis joining the magnetic poles would be inclined some twenty-three degrees to the earth's polar axis. In recording the discovery of this significant fact, it happens singularly enough that we come upon the first hint of another and yet more striking phenomenon. We have seen what is the variation in the needle's direction as we travel from place to place; let us now consider the variation which appears when we compare epoch with epoch. Christopher Columbus during his first voyage across the Atlantic noticed that, as he proceeded farther and farther westward, the magnetic needle gradually changed its direction. It had been pointing towards the east when he left Europe. On the 13th of September, 1492, when he was six hundred miles to the west of the Isle of Ferro, he noticed that the needle was pointing much less considerably towards the east; and watching it from that time forward he saw it pass to the north and thence to the west of north. This was the first discovery of the change in the direction of the needle as we pass from one part of the globe to the other. But observe the needle was pointing towards the east in Europe in those days. We have mentioned above that the needle now points many degrees to the west of north. Thus there has been a remarkable change in the interval. Let us pause for a moment to consider the significance of such a change. Terrestrial magnetism may be looked upon as a force due to the combined action of every particle of the earth's mass. The needle's deviation from the north point may be held to be significant of some peculiarity in the distribution of these particles. We would not be understood as saying that such a peculiarity is the true explanation of the phenomenon, but merely that it is the explanation which most naturally suggests itself. A marked change, then, in the needie's direction from epoch to epoch, seems to indicate a complete change in the distribution of the particles which form the earth's mass. "How is it," we may ask with Arago, "that the directive action of the globe, which is evidently the resultant of the action of the molecules of which the earth is composed. can be thus variable, while the number, position, and temperature of these molecules, and, as far as we know, all their other physical properties remain constant?" It may be well to examine the evidence we have respecting the mode in which this change has come about, so far at least as the magnetic compass in Western Europe is concerned. Unfortunately we have not evidence respecting the changes which have taken place elsewhere during the long interval of time we now have to deal with. The oldest records we have belong to the year 1580. At that time the magnetic needle pointed 114 degrees towards the east in London, and 111⁄2 degrees towards the east in Paris. In London the declination had changed to 6 degrees in 1622, to 44 degrees in 1634, and in 1657 the magnetic needle pointed due north. In Paris the magnetic needle was 8 degrees to the east in 1618, and pointed due north in 1663, or six years later than in London. From this time both needles travelled westwards, the London needle with a start of about 1 degree. In 1720 the London needle already pointed farther west than it had pointed towards the east in 1580, the Paris needle being about a degree and a half behind. In 1805 the London needle pointed 244 towards the west, the Paris needle being now two degrees behind. In 1810 Arago commenced his watch upon the Paris needle, and he presently noticed that its westerly motion was flagging appreciably. He announced in 1814 his belief that the needle would presently cease to travel westward, and would then return towards the north. Three years later he announced definitely the fact that the return movement had commenced. But in the meantime the London needle was still travelling westward, and the observers in London were unwilling to admit that places separated by so small a distance as London and Paris, could exhibit so |