some gorgeous, though unearthly temple. If upon the 

 forest leaves there be the drops of a passing shower, or 

 of the dew, they glitter in the brilliant light like living 

 diamonds. 



And even by day these clearings have a picturesque 

 and interesting appearance. When the air is still, and 

 the blue column of smoke rises like a tall fairy shaft, up 

 to the heavens, contrasting with their deeper blue ; it 

 seems as if it were a monument of praise to the noble pio- 

 neers who are thus willing to bear the heat and burden 

 of the day. Though it be a digression from the practical 

 work we have in hand, and the critic may deem it an 

 offence against good taste, we must be allowed to say, 

 that in the rude forest life of which we treat, there is 

 much of real romance. Often have we enjoyed it, with 

 a joy not equalled by that experienced in other scenes. 

 Look at the forester, on the Sabbath, if you please. He 

 has well kept the command, " six days shah thou labor," 

 and he rises to enjoy the day of rest, deeming it indeed a 

 blessing. The church-going bell is not heard within his 

 wild domain, nor organ, nor anthem, nor choir. But 

 there is music in the deep silence. He wanders a little 

 way from his dwelling, and sits him down beneath the 

 verdant canopy of leaves. Up above all, through the 

 fretted roof of branches, he sees the deep blue of the 

 heaven of worlds, emblem of the divine purity. He 

 hears a sound 'tis but the clear trill of the Phebe-bird, 

 perhaps, or the rich love-note of the robin. The leaves 

 tremble in the light breeze, with a voice sweeter and 

 softer than the tones of the wind-harp : 



" Unearthly minstrelsy ! then only heard, 

 When the soul jeeks to hear ; when all is hushed, 

 And the heart listens." 



The forester is, indeed, in a temple not made with 

 hands, and his worship may be paid to Him who seeth 

 in secret, and rewardeth openly. 



