MR. Oliver's address, 29 



steals from her dimly lighted chambers of the East, and walks 



her way through the long, silent night, — from the great sun 



himself, 



" As on the wings 



Of glory, up the Eust he springs ; 



Angel of light, who from the time, 



That Heaven began its march sublime, 



Hath first of all the starry Choir, 



Trod in his Maker's steps of fire ;" — Moore's Lalla Rookh. 



from the broad Earth, upon which you tread, whose every 



mountain and valley, every hill-top and plain, every forest 



and prairie, every clod and every smallest dust, every ocean 



and sea, and lake and river, and gurgling brook, and drop of 



water, is teeming with the great mystery of life, developed or 



yet to be developed. Will you walk upon its glorious surface, 



as men who see nothing, yea, blind as the worms and moles 



that burrow in its dirt, — seeing nothing of the transcendant 



wonders that are about and above, and beneath you ? 



" There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 

 Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." — Shakspeare's Hamlet. 



and will you dwell within this great laboratory of God, where- 

 in He works out the mystery of His experiments, and refuse 

 the invitation which even He gives, to take benefit of His les- 

 sons and their teachings, and to be wise to your own profit ? 

 Will you listen to the murmuring of the brook, that irrigates 

 your meadow, and makes its rich crop ready for your scythe, 

 and live in ignorance, that every drop of its waters is but the 

 chemical result of the mingling of two invisible gases, with- 

 out the presence of one of which in all the watery world, the 

 other would, by its specific levity, seek 



The upper regions of the air, 

 Doing, I know not, what great mischief there; — New Song. 



And leaving the cavernous abysses of the ocean revealed to the 



light of day, with 



" Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, 

 Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, 

 Wooing the slimy bottom of the deep;" — Shakspeare's Eichard IIL 



and its myriads of known and unknown monsters, to flounder, 



to struggle for water, and to perish for the lack of it ? 



Will you walk abroad and breathe the pure atmospheie of 



