THE VOICE OF That blessed mood 



In which the burthen of the mystery, 

 In which the heavy and the wearyweight 

 Of all this unintelligible world 

 Is lightened. 



But it is asked, is not this, in the light which 

 science pours upon the garden, after all a very 

 superficial view of nature even as we see it in 

 the garden? Do we not find, even there, the 

 struggle for existence, the strong killing off the 

 weak? Is not the very soil in which your flow- 

 ers grow rich in mold that tells of the death of 

 countless ages of plant and flower? Yes, it is 

 true. " Every blossom of beauty has its root 

 in fallen leaves." But "there is a smell of 

 violets o'er the mould." 



There is a life that survives, and science has 

 given us a wonderfully illuminating word, a 

 word which enables us to find in death itself the 

 pledge of fulfilment for our highest aspirations. 

 Science is teaching us with a great emphasis 

 that life is an "evolution" from lower to higher 

 forms, and that it is the law of its progress that 



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