324 



KTDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



DOMESTIC LAYS.— No. VI. 



TO MY DAUGHTER, ON HER BIRTHDAY. 

 BY THE AUTHOR OP " THE NECKLACE."* 



My darling, — my sweet little one ! 



Come, climb upon my knee ; 

 I have a lay of love to sing, 



A natal song for thee. 

 Thy mother, too, has bade me twine 



These flowers round thy brow ; 

 Wild flowers simple as thyself, 



With blossoms white as snow. 



My love, — when first thy wailing cry 



Fell softly on my ear, 

 It made my anxious bosom thrill 



With mingled joy and fear. 

 I trembled for thy mother's life ; 



But soon she fondly smiled, 

 And placed thee in my longing arms, 



And bade me " bless her child." 



I bless'd thee then, my gentle one, 



And still the gift I bless ; 

 The dew upon thy lip has filled 



My cup of happiness. 

 Time links thee closer to my heart, — 



As tendrils of the vine 

 Around their parent stem with age 



More closely intertwine. 



Three happy years have roll'd away 



Since first thy cheek I press'd, 

 And laid thee like a folded bud 



Upon thy mother's breast. 

 God grant that future years may find 



Thy heart still pure and free, — 

 As guileless and as innocent 



As human heart may be ! 



Thou'lt have thy mother's smile, my girl, 



Her deep, fond eyes of love ; 

 Oh ! may thy temper be as sweet, 



Thy heart as gentle prove ! 

 But there's a cloud upon thy brow, 



It grieves my heart to see ; 

 As though thy father's early gloom 



Had left its trace on thee! 



Yet, dearest, clasp thy father's neck, 



Come. — press thy lip to his ; 

 And we'll defy sad augury 



With fond affection's kiss. 

 But hark ! I hear thy mother's voice ; 



She's calling thee, my sweet ; 

 Go quickly, with a kiss of love, 



Her welcome step to greet. 



I bless thee yet once more, my child; 



May pleasure's golden urn 

 Pour out through life its richest store 



To greet this day's " return ! " 

 May God be gracious, my belov'd; 



May His protecting power 

 Long spare thee in our hearts to bloom 



Their dearest, — choicest flower! 



See vol. iii., page 243. 



THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS. 



Although men reason with much tact, 

 Religion is not theory— but fact. 



There are a vast many men in the 

 present day who live in the enjoyment (if 

 such it may be called) of ideas of their own 

 creating. They coldly admire what is pass- 

 ing before them — calling it wonderful, but 

 care little to make further inquiry — unless, 

 indeed, it be by writing visionary and absurd 

 Treatises. Now we differ from these good 

 people in toto. 



When our admiration becomes fixed upon 

 anything that is exquisitely beautiful in 

 nature, or that calls for our special wonder, 

 we look far beyond the visible creation, and 

 pant to know more of the great and glorious 

 Maker of Heaven and Earth, from whom 

 emanates all we behold, and who evidently 

 takes pleasure in us sons of men. Philo- 

 sophers laugh at us for saying this, and make 

 game of all future happy prospects. But 

 transmigration of souls will not do for us. 

 We have that within which gives the lie to 

 such a doctrine. 



Having said thus much, let us record the 

 observations of our worthy collaborateur 

 (the Critic) on a similar subject. 



We have just been reading, says he, a 

 book, attributed to Dr. Whewell, on "The 

 Plurality of Worlds." It is a remarkable 

 volume; proving logically, and almost to a 

 demonstration, that our earth is the only part 

 of the creation — at all events, of the solar 

 system — which is yet inhabited. 



Our object, at present, in mentioning it is 

 — to proclaim its value as a deadly blow on 

 the face of Creation-worship and Pantheism. 

 It demonstrates that the glory of the 

 Heavenly bodies is all illusion — that they are 

 really in the crudest condition — that there 

 is not the most distant probability that they 

 shall ever be fit for the habitation of intelli- 

 gent beings — that man is totally distinct 

 from all other races of beings, and is abso- 

 lutely, essentially, and for ever superior to 

 and distinct from the lower animals; and 

 that, besides, he shall in all probability be 

 renewed and elevated by a supernatural 

 intervention. It hints, too, at our favorite 

 thought — that at death we leave this material 

 creation for ever, and enter on a spiritual 

 sphere, disconnected from this, and where 

 sun, moon, and stars are the " things invi- 

 sible ; " that, to use the words of Macintosh 

 to Hall, " we shall awake from this dream, 

 and find ourselves in other spheres of exist- 

 ence." 



And all these, and many similar ideas, are 

 not thrown out as mere conjectures, nor even 

 as bold gleams of insight, but are shown to 

 be favored by analogy — nay, some of them 

 founded on fact. We never read a book with 



