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ness they are beginning to separate tlieraselves, and lay their own 

 plans for the future, stud_ying out what independence means — and 

 over all bends God's beautiful sky ; over them all flows softly that 

 deep blue boundless river, which we call eternity. 



As a contrast Avith all this, think of the homes of the poor in 

 the city. The country spreads a tender, kindly grace over even 

 the home of poverty ; the green trees wave gently over the ruin- 

 ous cottage ; the green moss conceals and adorns its decay ; the 

 wild rose and the soft-eyed violet grow on the grassy bank. But 

 in the city, the poor live in narrow, squalid rooms, where the sun- 

 shine can never bring in its blessing. 



We build stately churches, and endow costly hospitals, but the 

 homes of the poor are always the city's shame. I must not now 

 dwell upon that subject. It is the great reform which the hour 

 demands, the reform which we must make, or it will be made one 

 day in a rough, wild way — demanded by justice, by charity, by 

 policy, by the love of our country. But I turn to a fairer picture. 



A southern friend said to me lately, I have been in every State 

 of our Union, but there is nothing so beautiful after all as a New 

 England village. There is an air of refinement and good taste 

 about the houses and gardens, a certain neatness and propriety, 

 ■which is seen in no other part of the country. I confess that this 

 flattery is very pleasing, for it is significant of many things. This 

 •wish to adorn our homes is a silent recognition of the truth, that 

 there is something more than mere use and thrift in the minds of 

 our people. The house is not a shelter only from the seasons ; it 

 is the temple and altar of our afiections. 



Near the ancient dwelling-place of the Natick Indians there is 

 an old farm-house, with two vast, majestic elms before it, of which 

 a significant story is told. When the Puritan preacher in those 

 by-gone days settled there on that green slope by the river 

 Charles, he conciliated the natives by his sympathy and kindness, 

 and soon taught them to love and respect him. He had lived 

 there but a few months, when the Indians brought two young elm 

 trees from the forest, and with much form and solemnity, planted 

 them before his door. He asked their meaning, and they told 

 him that they were " trees of peace." These trees of peace Avere 

 only slender saplings then, which a child could carry in his hand, 

 but they have grown to be monumental trees, venerable in their 



