found among their buried ruins; the fine fabrics and costly Tyrian dyes; — they descant upon the wonderful perfection attained in the fine arts, in poetry and rhetoric, and the profound thought of the ancient philosophers and then are almost ready to echo, “There is nothing new under the sun." What is, is what has been.

good old times!

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Those

But what had those old philosophers, or the whole ancient world, done toward bringing nature under subjection, in obedience to the command, "subdue it "?

They had, it is true, built magnificent temples. But the taste of the architect, or that of the statuary or poet, is simply an emanation from the divine breath within man, and is cultivated by contemplation, and only surface contact with nature.

They piled up Cyclopean rocks into walls and pyramids. But the use of the lever and pulley comes also from the workings of mind, and but shallow views of the world. And adding man to man till thousands have worked together, as in one harness, has been a common feat of despots from the time of the Pharaohs onward.

They educed profound systems of philosophy, showing a depth of thought since unsurpassed. But these again were the results of cogitating mind, acting in its own might, glancing, it may be, at the landscape and the stars in admiration, but centering on man and mind; and often proving to be as erroneous as profound.

They cultivated the intellect, and made progress in political knowledge. But in their attempts to control nature, they brought to bear little beyond mere physical force.

Although ancient wisdom treats of air, earth, fire, and water, not one of these so-called elements was, in any proper sense, brought under subjection.

The Air: - Was it subdued, when the old Roman still preferred his banks of oars, and on the land, the wind was trained only to turn a wind-mill, carry off chaff, or work in a bellows?

Was the Earth subdued, when, instead of being forced to pour out in streams its wealth of various ores, but half a dozen metals were known? and, instead of being explored and found to be marshaled, for man's command, under sixty or more elements, each with its laws of combination, and all bound to serve the arts, the wisest minds saw only a mass of earth, something to tread upon, and grow grain and grass ?

Was Fire subdued, when almost its only uses were to warm, and cook, and to bake clay, and few of its other powers were known, besides those of destruction? or Light, when not even its component colors were recognized, and it served simply as a means of sight, in which man shared its use with brutes?

Was Water subdued, when it was left to run wild along the watercourses, and its ocean-waves were a terror to all the sailors of the age? when steam was only the ephemeral vapor of a boiling kettle, yet unknown in its might, and unharnessed? when the clouds sent their shafts where they willed? when the constituents of water the lifeelement oxygen and the inflammable hydrogen-had not yet yielded themselves to man as his vassals?

KNOWLEDGE OF NATURE (continued).

HARDLY the initial step had been taken, through the thousands of years of the earth's existence, to acquire that control of nature which mind should have, and God had ordered. The sciences of observation and experiment had not emerged from the mists of empiricism and superstition. There were few ascertained principles beyond those that flow from mathematical law, or from cogitations of mind after surface surveys of the world.

No wonder that nature unsubdued should have proved herself a tyrant. She is powerful. Vast might is embodied in her forces, that may well strike terror into the uninstructed and man has shown his greatness in that he has at last dared to claim obedience. The air, earth, water, fire, had become filled with fancied fiends, which any priest or priestess could evoke; and even the harmless moon, or two approaching or receding planets, or the accidental flight of a thoughtless bird, caused fearful forebodings; and a long-tailed comet made the whole world to shake with terror.

Christianity, although radiant with hope, could not wholly break the spell. The Christian's trust, Heaven's best gift to man, makes the soul calm and strong mid dangers, real or unreal; yet it leaves the sources of terror in nature untouched, to be assailed by that power which comes from knowledge.

Man thus suffered for his disobedience. He was the slave, nature, the feared master; to many, even the evil demon himself.

Is this now true of nature? We know that, to a large extent,

nature is yet unsearched and unsubdued. Still, vast progress has been made toward gaining control of her ten thousand agencies.

In gathering this knowledge, we have not sought for it among the faded monuments and rolls of the ancients, as we call the inhabitants of the earth's childhood: but have looked to records of vaster antiquity, — the writings of the infinite God in creation, which are now as fresh with beauty and wisdom as when His finger first mapped out the heavens, or traced the flowers and crystals of the earth. This is the fountain whence we have drawn; and what is the result?

How is it with water in these last times? Instead of wasting its powers in gambols down valleys, or in sluggish quiet about “sleepy hollows," it is trained to toil. With as much glee as it ever displayed running and leaping in its free channel, a single stream now turns over a million of spindles in this New England.

Changed to steam, there is terror in its strength even now. Yet the laws of steam, of its production, condensation, and elasticity, have been so carefully studied, and also the strength and other qualities of the metal used to confine it, as well as the nature and effects of fuel, that if we are careful not to defy established principles, steam is our most willing worker, turning saw-mills, printing-presses, cottongins, - speeding over our roads with indefinite trains of carriages and freight, bearing away floating mansions, against wind and tide, across the oceans, cooking, heating, searching out dyes from coarse logwood, and the like, and applying itself to useful purposes, one way or another, in almost all the arts. Again, if we will it, and follow nature's laws, water gives up its oxygen and hydrogen, and thus the chemist secures the means of burning even the diamond; the aëronaut makes wings for his adventurous flight, and the lighthouse derives the famous Drummond light for its work of mercy.

Light is no longer a mere colorless medium of sight. We may evoke from it any color we please, either for use or pleasure. We may also take its chemical rays from the rest, or its light rays, or its heat rays, and employ them separately or together; for we have found out where its strength lies in these particulars, so that at will, light may pass from our manipulations, shorn of its heating power, or of its power of promoting growth, or chemical change. Ay, the subtile agent will now use its pencil in taking sketches from nature, or portraits, if we desire it: and the work is well done.

The ancient wise men, discoursing on the power which holds matter

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together, sometimes attributed to the particles convenient hooks for clinging to one another. Little was it dreamed that the force of combination in matter -- now called attraction-included the lightning among its effects, and would be made to run errands and do hard work for man. Electricity, galvanism, magnetism, are modern names for some of the different moods under which this agent appears; and none of nature's powers now do better service. It is kept on constant run with messages over the continents, scaling mountains or traversing seas with equal facility. It does our gilding and silverplating. Give it an engraved plate as a copy, and it will make a hundred such in a short time. If taken into employ, it will, in case of fire, set all the bells of a city ringing at once; or it will strike a common beat for all the clocks of a country; or be the astronomer's best and surest aid in observing phases in the heavens, or measuring longitude on the earth. All this and more it accomplishes for us, or can if we wish, besides opening to our inquiring eyes the profound philosophy which God has inscribed in his works.

Nature is not now full of gloom and terror. Her fancied fiends have turned out friends. Although God still holds supreme control, and often makes man remember whence his strength, yet every agent, however mighty in itself, is becoming a gentle and ready assistant, both in our work and play,—in the material progress of nations, as well as their moral and intellectual advancement.

JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY, one of the most eminent of American historians, was born in Dorchester, Massachusetts, in 1814. Graduating at Harvard College at the age of seventeen, he went to Europe, where he spent several years in preparation for a task to which he had early devoted himself, the writing of a History of the Rise of the Dutch Republic. Young as he was, he had already produced two novels, Morton's Hope, or The Memoirs of a Provincial, and Merry Mount, A Romance of the Massachusetts Colony, which were long ago forgotten. After fifteen years of arduous labor he finished his History, and its reception on both sides of the Atlantic was exceptionally cordial. Mr. Everett said of it that it was, in his judgment, "a work of the highest merit," and placed "the name of Motley by the side of those of our great American historical trio, Bancroft, Irving, and Prescott." The instantaneous success of this History - the work of a young and unknown writer-is unprecedented in the annals of historical literature. Not content with this triumph, which assured him of an immortality of fame, Mr. Motley at once set about a new enterprise, the results of which appear in The History of the United Netherlands, in which the career of the young nation, the story of whose birth had been told in the previous work, is described with equal spirit and accuracy. During the current year (1874) Mr. Motley's third historical work, Life and Death of John of Barneveld, has been published. In common with the eminent historians with whom Edward Everett classed him, Mr. Motley possesses in rare combination the highest intellectual qualifications for his work. He is especially remarkable for a certain breadth of mind which impels him to take comprehensive and exhaustive views of his subject. His style is a model of vigor and grace, and in dramatic quality it is equaled by that of no other historian of this century. It would be, perhaps, impossible to indicate any other historical works than his, of comparatively modern issue, touching which the judgment of critics has been so unanimously favorable. Some foreign reviewers, unable to appreciate, or, perhaps, eager to rebuke, the sturdy Republican spirit that animates this American writer, have charged him with excessive severity in his denunciation of Spanish despotism; but with this exception his candor and conscientious accuracy have never been impugned. Mr. Motley was appointed United States Minister to Austria by President Lincoln, and, after honorable service at Vienna, was transferred to England, where he represented this government with conspicuous ability. The exigencies of partisan politics required his removal, and he is now, a private citizen, fully occupied with congenial literary labors.

HISTORIC PROGRESS.

WE talk of History. No man can more highly appreciate than I do the noble labors of your Society,* and of others in this country, for the preservation of memorials belonging to our brief but most important past. We can never collect too much of them, nor ponder them too carefully, for they mark the era of a new civilization. But that interesting past presses so closely upon our sight that it seems still a portion of the present; the glimmering dawn preceding the noontide of to-day.

*THE NEW YORK HISTORICAL SOCIETY. The extract is from an address delivered by Mr. Motley before this society, December 16, 1868, the subject being Historic Progress and American Democracy.