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lum for the night was approaching; he began to look 

 around for a house, with a neat door-yard, and showing 

 a display of flowers. When he found that spot, he 

 alighted for the night, and was always sure to meet a 

 cordial reception, with all the comforts of a quiet 

 and peaceful home. There is something so touching 

 in this truthful representation, that I could not for- 

 bear the pleasu.re of alluding to it, and must ask your 

 indulgence to relate another incident. A few months 

 since, I called with a friend on a much respected min- 

 ister of the gospel in this city, our attention was direct- 

 ed with considerable interest to a picture that hung 

 suspended on the wall ; the design was a basket of 

 flowers, made from a collection of dried varieties ; this 

 we were informed, was the artistical arrangement of an 

 anonymous young lady ; the melancholy circumstance 

 it intended to symbolize, was the death of two inter- 

 esting and beautiful children ; two buds had fallen 

 from the basket, and in their descent they carried with 

 them the sad conviction that this was the abode of sor- 

 row; and as a father's eye rested on these truthful 

 flowers, I could see the emotions of a deeply afflicted 

 heart. This small tribute, the workmanship of female 

 genius and refinement, was a gift of the beautiful — a 

 priceless gem ; it clustered around it the associations 

 of the past, aiid presented a memorial of the purest 

 friendship and sympathy; even these dried leaves that 

 have long since departed their fragrance, are silent 

 monitors; but they convey language that gives joy in 

 sadness, and direct our thoughts from earth to the pu- 

 rity and beauty of that brighter world. 



