THE SECRET DOCTRINE OF THE ANCIENT MYSTERIES.—An essay by J. D. Buck, (Robert Clarke & Co., Cincinnati, O.). This little pamphlet of 32 pages, is an essay read by Dr. Buck before the Liberal Club of Cincinnati. The author tries to show that one truth has run all through the Ancient Mysteries, and later, is even to be found in the Christian Church. His hint on p. 22, that “the Apostolic Catholic Church possessed the Secret Doctrine, that some of its clergy apprehended the great truths, but that there was wisdom for the priests and command for the people,” is full of truth. At the present day the great Jesuit College possesses much knowledge of the theurgy which is a part of the practice of the Secret Doctrine, and if all the magical practices of the disciples of Loyola were known, the Christian world would be startled. They know enough of forecasting the future to fear all such movements as the Theosophical Society, and have tried, as they still try, to undermine it within its own borders. Anyone who reads Dr. Buck’s essay with a candid spirit, will agree with him that one core of truth underlies all religions, and will feel the refreshing influence of the author’s clear mind and solid sense. INWORLD. [A poem taken from the January number of “The Dial,” 1842, the organ of the Transcendentalists, edited by RALPH WALDO EMERSON.] Amid the watches of the windy night A poet sat, and listened to the flow Of his own changeful thoughts, until there passed A vision by him, murmuring as it moved, A wild and mystic lay—to which his thoughts And pen kept time—and thus the measure ran: All is but as it seems, The round, green earth, With river and glen; The din and the mirth Of the busy, busy men; The world’s great fever Throbbing forever; The creed of the sage, The hope of the age, All things we cherish, All that live and all that perish, These are but inner dreams. The great world goeth on To thy dreaming; To thee alone Hearts are making their moan, Eyes are streaming. Thine is the white moon turning night to day, Thine is the dark wood sleeping in her ray. Thee the winter chills, Thee the spring time thrills; All things nod to thee— All things come to see If thou art dreaming on. If thy dream should break, And thou should’st awake, All things would be gone.