THE LIGHT. 
THE NIGHT. 
“Lieut! more light!” Such were the last words of 
Goethe. This utterance of expiring genius is the general 
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cry of Nature, and re-echoes from world to world. What 
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yah was said by that man of power—one of the eldest sons of 
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a 4 God—is said by His humblest children, the least advanced in 
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ALA the scale of animal life, the molluses in the depths of ocean; 
they will not dwell where the light never penetrates. The 
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{/ flower seeks the light, turns towards it; without it, sickens. Our 
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> fellow-workers, the animals, rejoice like us, or mourn like us, 
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i! according as it comes or goes. My grandson, but two months 
Ps old, bursts into tears when the day declines. 
i “This summer, when walking in my garden, I heard and [ 
saw on a branch a bird singing to the setting sun; he inclined him- 
self towards the light, and was plainly enchanted by it. I was equally 
charmed to see him; our pitiful caged birds had never inspired me with 
the idea of that intelligent and powerful creature, so little, so full of 
