ADDRESS. 



BY HENRY K. OLIVER, 



There is a suggestive pictorial representation upon the Di- 

 ploma which the Essex Agricultural Society confers upon its 

 members. As you look at it, your attention will be first tak- 

 en by a central group of three figures, one, and the principal 

 of which, is like 



" tlie native maids, 

 Amid the festal sounding shades," 



In Tempe's vale — of whom the poet Collins speaks, in his ex- 

 quisite Ode on the Passions, 



" Loose are her tresses seen, her zone unbound." 

 At her feet lie twined clusters of roses and of flowers, of va- 

 ried and beautiful forms, amid a profusion of rich and luscious 

 fruits. I take her to be the Goddess of Industry — more wor- 

 thy of worship than any divinity of that multitudinous throng 

 that crowded the mythological heavens of Greek and Roman 

 priesthood. Resting upon her lap, and leaning at her side, are 

 two fresh and healthful children, to whose attentive ears she 

 is imparting practical lessons of her ov/n deep wisdom. She 

 tells them of the true happiness, and of the certain blessings 

 attendant and consequent upon persistent diligence. She 

 points them to the home of the Bee, which is seen at her left, 

 all redolent of sweets from honey-breathing flowers, — that 

 truthful and unvarying example of steadfast industry, that 



— " from the flowers exhausts the fragrant dew ; 



With golden treasures loads his httle thighs, 



And steers his distant journey thro' the skies." — Gay. 



Success to her lessons, and long live and be honored the 



Goddess of Industry ! 



