MOOliE’S EURAL NEW-YOEKEE: AN AGEICUITIIEAL ANE FAMILY JOURNAL. 
381 
( 
THE MIGHT OF SYMPATHY. 
BY J. H. BIXBY. 
- “ I wish I could encourage and help you, but 
I can only sympathize with you.” 
I. 
Y'ou can cheer, you can strengthen my steps on 
their way. 
Through the darkness and trial now gathering 
round. 
And far scatter the fears that would make me their 
prey. 
For encouragement strikes'all my chains to the 
ground. 
True Sympathy sweetens the bitterest sorrow— 
It lightens the woes of the captive in thrall; 
While Hope bids us look fora happier morrow. 
We heed not how darkly Night’s shadows may fall. 
II. 
O speak then in accents of kindness and hope. 
The sympathy warm in thy heart for my lot, 
A light like the dawn on my darkness shall ope, 
A faith be awakened no trial can blot, 
I will strive ’gainst my foes with a spirit on fire— 
With energies freshened and strong for the light. 
Then cheer me—still cheer my lorn soul to aspire— 
'I'o feel I can conquer from Sympathy’s might. 
nr. 
There’s a balm for the soul, though discouragement 
make 
The spirit-wings trail in the dust of despair— 
’ Tis a darkness which Sympathy’s sunlight can 
break. 
And give strength to the spirit to hope and to dare; 
To hope for a morn when no storm-cloud shall lower. 
Which glows with the light of the perfected day— 
To dare, and to conquer from Sympathy's power. 
Then cheer me—still cheer my sad steps on their 
way. 
THE CUP OF COLD WATER. 
BY T. 8. ARTHUR. 
Henry Green was a reformed man. He 
had been a most abandoned drunkard, and, 
in the years of his sad decadence, had 
shamefully wronged and abused his femily. 
But, in a lucid moment, he perceived, with 
startling distinctness, the precipice, upon 
the very brink of which he was standing, 
and started back therefrom. 
For his suffering w'ife and children, the 
waste places became green again, and the 
desert blossomed as the rose. After a long, 
long night of weeping, the sun came forth, 
and his smile brought light and gladness to 
their spirits. The husband and father was 
a man once more with the heart of a man. 
Ho turned no longer away from them in 
debasing self-indulgence, but toward them 
in thoughtful affection. 
How quickly is perceived a change for 
the better in everything appertaining to the 
inebriate’s family, when the head of it aban¬ 
dons his sins and folly, and returns to his 
affection and duty. All this change was 
apparent in the. family of Henry Green.— 
They had suffered even to the deprivation 
of eveiy comfort; but of these one and an¬ 
other w'ere restored, until every part of 
their humble dwelling seemed to smile again. 
How happy they were! 
And yet, the wife of the reformed man 
often felt a sense of insecurity. She un¬ 
derstood too well that, for her husband, 
temptation lurked at every point. How oft¬ 
en did she await his return home, as eve¬ 
ning approached, with trembling anxiety; 
and mark, while yet afar off, his steps, to 
see if they w'ere firmly taken. 
It was early in the fall of the year when 
Henry Green took the pledge. Through 
the Aviifter, he had worked industriously; 
and, as he could earn good wages, his in¬ 
come had given them, as just mentioned, 
very many comforts. He had not been 
much tempted of his old appetite during 
the cold wTather, nor did he feel its active 
return at the opening of spring. But, with 
the fervent heat of summer, the slumber¬ 
ing desire aw'oke. 
D • 
Active bodily labor produced free per¬ 
spiration. Frequent thirst w'as the conse¬ 
quence; and whenever this was felt, the 
thoughts of the reformed man dwelt upon 
the pleasure a cool glass of some mixed 
liquor would give. With an effort, and oft¬ 
en with fear at his heart, Avould he thrust 
aside the alluring images drawn by his tru¬ 
ant imagination. And yet, they would ev¬ 
er and anon return: and there were times 
when he was tempted almost beyond his 
strength. 
Green was a carpenter. Early in the 
spring a gentleman offered him a good con¬ 
tract for putting up two or three frame 
buildings, which he gladly accepted; and, 
as the lot upon which his house stood was 
large, he erected a shop thereon. 
More cheerfully and hopefully than ever 
did the reformed man now work. He saw 
a clearer light ahead. He would, ere long, 
recover all lie had lost, and even get beyond 
the point of prosperity from which he had 
fallen. 
Time wore on. Spring passed and the 
summer opened. July came with intensely 
hot weather. Already had Henry Green 
felt the cravings of his awakening appetite, 
and it required strong efforts at self-denial 
to refrain from indulgence. 
About eleven o’clock one da)’’—it was a 
hotter day than usual—Green’s thoughts 
were dwelling, as was now too often the 
case, upon the “refreshing glass,” once so 
keenly enjoyed. A little way from his 
shop, though not in view, was a tavern, the 
bar-room of which memory was picturing 
to the eyes of his mind with tempting dis¬ 
tinctness. He had often been there in 
times past—often drank there until thought 
and feeling were lost. He saw, in imagina¬ 
tion, the rows of alluring decanters, with 
their many colored contents; he heard -the 
cold ice as it rattled in the glasses; he al¬ 
most felt the cool beverage upon his lips.— 
So absorbed did he at length become, that 
he paused in his work, and leaned over his 
bench, his eyes half closed, like one in a 
dreamy reverie. . 
It was a moment upon which his future, 
for good or for evil, hung trembling in an. 
even balance that a hair might tm-n. 
For as long as five minutes did Henry 
Green stand leaning over his work-bench, a 
picture of the neighboring bar-room distinct¬ 
ly before his mind, while he was conscious 
of an intense thirst—that it seemed as if 
nothing but a glass of mixed and iced liquor 
could possibly assuage. 
With a deep drawn breath he at length 
raised himself; the struggle that was going 
on in his mind more than half decided in 
favor of self-indulgence. 
“Papa!” spoke alow, familiar voice by 
his side. 
Green started and turned suddenl 3 ^ A 
child not over four years old, stood by him 
—a fair child, with a countenance full of 
innocence and affection. She held a tin 
cup in both her little hands. 
“ Have a drink of cool water, papa ?” 
•“ Yes, dear,” replied the father, in a low 
voice that was unsteady from the rush of 
sudden emotion, and he caught the cup from 
the child’s hands, and, raising it to his lips, 
drank it eagerly. 
Instantly the picture of the bar-room, 
with all its allurements, faded from the mind 
of Green. He was a man again, in the in¬ 
tegrity of a firm purpose. His child, led to 
him by the hand of a good Providence, had 
saved him. The cup of cold water had ful¬ 
ly assuaged the violence of his burning 
thirst; and he Avas no longer under tempt¬ 
ation. 
“ Thank you, dear!” he murmured, as he 
lifted. his child in his arms, and kissed her 
tenderly. 
“ Shall I bring you another cool drink af¬ 
ter awhile?” asked the little one, as she 
pressed her father’s cheeks ivith both her 
hands. 
“ Did any one tell you to bring mo the cup 
of Avater?” asked Mr. Green. 
“No sir. But I thought you Avould like 
a cool drink,” innocently replied the child. 
“Yes, dear, bring me another drink after 
aAAdiile.” Then kissing the little angel who 
had been the means of saAiag him when 
about to fall into temptation, he replaced 
h'er upon the ground and once more turned 
to his Avork; and as he bent his body in la¬ 
bor, he mused thus— 
“ I did not think of the Avater when I felt 
that intense desire for a glass of liquor—it 
did not seem to be Avhat I wanted. But, 
the cooling draught sent me (by Heaven, I 
Avill say,) so- opportunely, -has quenched the 
morbid appetite, and I feel it no longer.— 
Water, pure, health-giving water, you are 
all I need to give entire strength to my good 
resolutions! When the old desire comes 
again, I will dioivn it. in clear, cold Avater. 
I feel safer noAV. There is a medicine for 
the inebriate’s craving appetite, and it is— 
WATER. Freely Avill I use it! Thank God 
FOR Water!” 
Yes, Avater is the medicine that cures the 
sickly craving for strong drink. Let the 
reformed man keep this ever in his thoughts, 
and, the moment he feels the old desire, 
drown it, as did Henry Green, in pure cold 
Avatcr. Let him do this, and he is safe.— 
He should Avatch the beginnings of thir.st, 
and be quick to allay the uneasy sensation, 
lest he fall unaivares into danger. 
Testimony of a High Man. —The late 
Mr. McDonough, the millionaire, in his Avill, 
says;—“Let the poorer classes of the Avoriy^ 
be consolated, assured that the labor-loving, 
frugal, industrious, and virtuous among them 
possess joys and happiness in this life which 
the rich know not and, cannot appreciate.— 
So Avell convinced am I, after a long life 
and intercourse Avith my fellow-men of all 
classes, of the truth ‘ that the happiness of 
this life is altogether cn the side of the vir¬ 
tuous and industrious poor,’ that, had I 
children (avIucIi I have not) and a fortune to 
leave behind me at death, I would bequeath 
after a virtuous education, to effect which 
nothing should be spared, a very small 
amount to each, merely sufficient to excite 
them to habits of industry and frugality, and 
no more.” 
Singing Mouse — A very curious and 
and highly interesting little animal is at this 
time in the possession of a person residing 
in this town (Breton,) of the name of John 
Watkins, Avho captured it about seven Aveeks 
since. It is a mouse of the common species, 
but possesses a poAver of singing similar to 
the bird in a Avonderful degree. The imi¬ 
tations of the note of the Avoodlark and lin- 
netj are very striking; the notes partake 
likeAvise of those of the nio-htinsale. The 
often repeated jug, jug, is truly beautiful. 
GENIUS AND HUMAN PROGRESS. 
“ Improvement is the order of the day.” 
Is there anything in the history of the world 
or in the past ages of man, which can prove 
more conclusively, or illustrate more clear¬ 
ly, the truth of this assertion—than the 
present time. However widely men may 
differ in religious or political opinions, they 
arc constrained to admit that the course of 
the human race is ever onAvard. 
Behold the little rivulet, springing from 
some shady nook, meandering down the 
hills and through the vallies, murmuring 
its pleasing melody alike under the burning 
sun of noon-day,—the dewy shades of eve¬ 
ning, or in the dark, silent hours of mid¬ 
night;—widening and deepening its chan¬ 
nel, as onAvard it IIoavs right merrily; noAv 
winding its course around the base of some 
gigantic mountain, noAv gurgling OA'er some 
rugged rocks, or moving silently through 
some lonely forest—until its Avaters are re¬ 
ceived into the bosom of the dark blue 
ocean. Thus is genius. Born in obscurity, 
Avhether under the cold icebergs of the 
Northern Ocean, or the burning sun of the 
equator, Avhether it boAvs in fond allegience 
to Brittania’s sovereign, Russia’s Emperor, 
or enrolled under the banner of republican 
liberty,—it rises paramount to all difficul¬ 
ties, it overcomes every obstacle in the way 
of its advancement, until its supreme pow¬ 
er is acknoAvledged, and its influence felt 
throughout the Avorld. 
Genius is an indispensable auxiliary to 
the progress of man;—Avhenever any great 
object is in contemplation for the benefit of 
mankind, there is genius found with ready 
hand, and Avilling heart, eager for its accom¬ 
plishment. 
Without genius the tremendous poAvers 
of steam would have remained undeveloped, 
and the lightnings would never have been 
tempted from Heaven, and made the slave 
of man, subservient to'his wishes and com¬ 
mands, transmitting Avith its OAvn unequal¬ 
led velocity, the proceedings of one country 
to the uttermost limits of another. 
It was- genius Avhich enabled Washing¬ 
ton to repel a foreign foe - and give to the 
oppressed of every age and clime, a country 
and a home. 
And yet in an age when neAvs travels 
with the rapidity of thought, and Avhen 
steam is the grand moving poAver of the 
Avorld—man is not content—it is not enough 
that he has found a new continent, that he 
has filled it with cities aqd tOAvns, that float¬ 
ing palaces glide upon its majestic rivers, 
that he has added a glittering band to the 
wide-spread territory of the American 
Union;—all this fails to satisfy him,—he is 
ever on the alert for some startling develop¬ 
ments in the scientific world. 
It Avas a longing after a more improved 
and a happier state of existence, that indu¬ 
ced our Pilgrim fathers to encounter the 
storms and tempests of a raging ocean, and 
landing on a cold, barren, and inhospitable 
shore, to erect in the wilds of the Western 
Continent, the temple of Liberty; and may 
it ever remain firm and unshaken, as the 
granite lulls of NeAV England—as unsha¬ 
ken as is the confidence Avhich Ave place in 
the Constitution of the American Republic. 
But should the name of Washington CA'^er 
fail to thrill the hearts or animate the souls 
of his countrymen, should the zeal of party 
spirit ever proceed so far as to forget the 
respect due his memory; — may this temple, 
noAV so dear to the heart of every true-born 
American—consecrated by the blood of our 
forefathers, and christened by the tears of 
the Avidow and orphan,—be totally demol¬ 
ished,—and a temple dedicated to oppres¬ 
sion and tyranny be erected on its ruins.— 
Waverly Magazine. 
GENERAL WASHINGTON. 
The late Dr. Chalmers, of Scotland, in 
his comments on the 19th chapter of Josh¬ 
ua, compared that distinguished leader of 
ancient Israel to Gen. Washington. Let 
all disunionists, or promoters of disunion, 
under Avhatever plausible guise, know as¬ 
suredly, that no Christian historian of fu¬ 
ture times Avill ever compare them to Josh¬ 
ua of old, but Avill be' much more likely to 
compare them to Judas Iscariot. Says Dr. 
Chalmers;— 
“ He (Joshua) Avas the Gen. Washington 
of Palestine, and Avas Avell entitled to a 
choice portion in the land that he had sub¬ 
dued. What a deal of most deeply inter¬ 
esting history has vanished from the Avorld. 
One Avould have liked to knoAV the diary 
of his remaining life, his habits and enjoy¬ 
ments, of the grateful veneration in Avhich 
he Avas held, and Avhether the Timuath-Se- 
ra of Mount Ephriam Avas not eyed and re¬ 
sorted to Avith the same feelings of affection¬ 
ate patriotism Avhich still gloAV* in the bo¬ 
soms of the Americans Avhen they visit 
Mount Vernon. On the principle of the 
identity of human nature in all ages we 
should imagine, or rather believe, that it 
must have been so. Joshua Avas a good 
man, and occupies a high place among the 
AYOrthies of Israel.” 
Mortality. —To smell of a turf of fresh 
earth, is Avliolesome for the body; no less 
are thoughts of mortality cordial to the soul. 
Earth thou art, to earth thou shall re¬ 
turn." — Fuller. 
PENMANSHIP OF DISTINGUISHED PERSONS. 
Queen Elizabeth — She was taught 
writing by Roger Ascham. Her first copy¬ 
book is to be seen in the Bodleian Library. 
She began Avell and improved rapidly.— 
While Princess, she came to write a beau¬ 
tiful engrossing hand—clear and regular 
almost as an engraving of letters. I turn¬ 
ed to another signature after she had been 
queen a long time, and Avhat was my dis¬ 
may ? Melancholy change! The letters 
Avere now thin, spiteful—the lines irregular 
—an ugly old maid’s versoin of her former 
hand—and the signature Avas a thing to 
make one bless one’s self ! It Avas an im¬ 
mense, thin, mountebank’s letter—and then 
another such letter, with a signature work¬ 
ed between—the Avhole having the appear¬ 
ance of an outline of some Avild scaffold¬ 
ing whereon stood the pale grotesque skel¬ 
etons of fire-Avorks, as they look before ex¬ 
plosion.- 
Martin Luther — His Avriting was firm 
and legible, though not very equal nor very^ 
strair/ht. This I thouo-ht a true version, as 
he had strong passions, as Avell as strong 
reasons for Avhat he did. 
Sir Thomas More—By no means display¬ 
ing the calm firmness he possessed ; the 
lines crooked and tumbling doAvn hill. 
Rubens—Manly, bold, and Avith a care-' 
less ease denoting mastery of hand. 
Lord Bacon—Very like an elegant mod¬ 
ern short hand. Clear, near and regular. 
The signature inA'olved with broken lines, as 
if a fly had struggled and died in a spider’s 
web. , 
Voltaire — Very clear, regular, steady, 
.and straight; evidently not Avritten rapidly 
but with a continuous ease, Avhich .might go 
on writing book after book in just the same 
way. 
Oliver Cromwell—Large, bold, legible, 
steady, sharp and straight. The signature 
made of halberds and pointed palisades.— 
But another letter of his Avas not at all of 
this character. It displayed a 'perplexed 
and undecided mind—at the time it was 
written. 
Prince de Conde—Not at all in accord¬ 
ance with the strong expression and Buffalo- 
features of his face. 
Charlottee Corday—Firm, clear, steady, | 
but not without emotion. 
Cuvier—Very like the Avriting of Char¬ 
lotte Corday, but not so strong and com¬ 
pact. 
Danton—Willful, daring, Avithout method 
or care. 
George the Fourth—Not at all the A’ery 
gentlemanly hand most people Avould ex¬ 
pect ; rather like a housemaid’s. 
Pope—Very bad, small, full of indecis¬ 
ion ; a very hedge-row of corrections. 
Cardinal Wolsey—A good hand, dis¬ 
turbed only by nervous energy and self-will. 
Person—Correct and steady; the reverse 
of his personal appearance and habits. 
Shakspeare—A very bad hand indeed ; 
confused, croAvded, crooked in the lines, and 
scarcely legible. 
Napoleon—Still more illegible. No let¬ 
ters formed at all; the signature a mere 
hasty “ scrimmage ” with the pen. 
VANDERLYN, THE PAINTER. 
When Aaron Burr Avas at the height of 
his power, and Avearing the honors of the 
republic, in journeying through the interior 
of NeAV York, he Avas struck one day at a 
tavern, with the singular spirit apparent in 
a little pen and ink draiving that hung 
over the fire place in the bar room. Upon 
inquiry he ascertained it Avas made by the 
landlord’s son, an apprentice to a neighbor¬ 
ing blacksmith. Col. Burr expressed some 
curiosity to see the lad, aaJio was according¬ 
ly sent for. His conversation and appear¬ 
ance gaAm evidence of innate genius, and 
the expediency of sending him to the city, 
in order to furnish him Avith the rudiments 
of an education Avas suggested. To this 
howev'er, the father demurred, suspecting 
from the interest Avhich tlie traveler ex¬ 
pressed in the child’s Avelfare, that he was 
really a more valuable member of his fam¬ 
ily than he had ever been esteemed. 
Just before leaving the house, Col. Burr 
said to the youth in a low tone of voice, 
“ Put a shirt in your pocket—come to N 
York and enquire for Aaron Burr, he Avill 
take care of you,” and immediately mount¬ 
ed his horse. Several months Avent by, 
and the circumstances Ave have related 
passed from the mind of Col. B., Avhen one 
morning a. country boy was ushered into 
the breakfast room, who instantly piilled.out 
a nicely rolled-up package from his pocket 
and laid it on the table. Col. Burr opened 
it and was surprised to find it contained 
nothing but a common, coarse cotton shirt 
Avhich, he Avas then reminded, he had de¬ 
sired should be brought him at the metrop¬ 
olis, from cnch a village. The bearer was 
young Vanderlyn, and from that day his 
better fortune commenced. Under the pat¬ 
ronage of the Vice President of the United 
States, he was sent to Italy, where he com¬ 
pleted his studies, and prepared himself for 
those greater label’s, which have since giv¬ 
en him a place in the rank of our native 
artists. 
A tedigus person is one a man AVOuld leap 
a steeple to avoid. 
labies’ lipriment. i 
- . — — -. s 
SONG-I THINK OF THEE. ) 
BY GEO. D. PRENTICE. ^ 
I think of thee Avhen eve’s last blush ; 
Falls mournfully on heart and eye ; ( 
Of thee when morn’s first glories gush \ 
In gold and crimson o’er the sky ; ) 
My thoughts are thine ’mid toil and strife, ? 
Thine wlien from toil and perils free— 
Ay, thine—forever tliine—my life A 
Is but a living thought of thee. > 
I think of thee ’mid spring’s sweet flowers, ^ 
And in the summer’s brighter glow, ) 
Of thee in autumn’s purple bowers,,. 
And gloomy winter’s waste of snow ; ) 
My thoughts are thine when joys depart, , 
And thine when all life’s sorrows flee— ^ I ^ 
Ay ne—forever thine—my heart (jS 
Is but a throbbing thought of thee. ' |) 
WOMEN RULE BY LOVE. 
Education comes then, at last, to aques- ? > 
tion- of being. What the mother is, will ; ) 
emanate from her and he most likely in her ^ ^ 
child; in the same degree in which her < } 
mind is high-toned and delicate in its moral [ > 
perceptions, in other words, her oAvn spirit- ) a 
ual standard will be the average one of those ^ ( 
around her. We may be allowed to lay <; > 
great stress on the position of the woman as i ; 
mother, because the good or evil that the j 
discharge of its duties'involves is no mooted ^ I 
question. Whatever other AA'ork she may ^ > 
ednsider legitimate for herself as the sea- ) s 
sons revolve, Iioav Avidel}' soever she may ex- ( ^ 
tend the sphere of her AVork, she Avill thro’ ^ i 
all time love and marry, and we may be ^ ) 
quite sure that the result of avvakened con- ^ I 
science, and intellect in healthy activity, will ( j 
not be to blind her to the fact that if she ^ ^ 
accepts of love iu its fullest sense, she ac- ^ ^ 
cepts also and Avill discharge the duties con- ^ < 
sequent on it. We certainly do incline to ^ j 
believe, while ever ready to accept the con- ^ ) 
trary as solemn truth, should her nature de- ^ j 
cree it so, that her Avork on earth is imaged ^ < 
by the sunlight and life aivakening air; her ( S 
presence noiseless though felt everyAvhere; ; 
that “as floAvers are the animate spring- ] ' 
tide,” so shall blossom in eATry busy field ^ ^ 
of human labor, -in strength and beauty, / 
seeds she has scattered to the Avind. She ^ 
’ may not realize that they are hers, but the ( 
Lord of the Harvest shall know them for ^ 
his OAvn. _ • ? 
Truly she is to be loved—she- is loved 
Avhether Avorthy or not. She can do little ^ 
good, and Ave may add little positive evil, . ? 
unless she be loved. She Avins love and an ^ 
entirety of faith in many instances, before ^ 
grounds for a real admiration have been es- ^ 
tablished. Miranda’s Avords, “Nothing ill ) 
can dAvell in such a temper,” are spoken i 
again and again. She druAvs you, she wills \ 
you to love her; to feel for her through that ^ 
•genius of influence she possesses. And this ) 
influence Ave do not find exerted only on I 
one, but in a greater or loss degree on all, ( 
and not because she Avills it, but through a ? 
native movement of the soul which may not > 
be gainsayed. Aime Martin says, “ What- ^ 
ever may be the customs and laAvs of a coun- ( 
try, Avomen ahvays give the tone to morals.” ? 
We may be sure that they do, and there is ^ 
no way of thought or act prevalent among ( 
men that will not be prevalent till Avomen ^ 
shall be really dissatisfied Avith it, till their ) 
conscience becomes more delicate than it is S 
at present, till they do more than disapprove, a 
by contrary courses of action in themselves. ^ 
On the question whether man was created i 
superior to Avoman, we have not cared to r 
speak; we really know nothing about it, and \ 
do not see any result that can arise from ( 
proof one way or the other. The native < 
material of«woman, fairly Avrought out, is so ; 
sufficient for all noble and beautiful ends on a 
earth, or in any sphere the imagination can ( 
picture, that it seems to us an advantage al- ^ 
together on her side, if her felloAv-laborer ) 
prove himself to be of a nobler and more ex- s 
alted presence than herself; for like Brutus, ( 
though not speaking ironically, shall she not ? 
“Be to learn of noble men?” ) 
Then, in any real communion between '( 
men and Avomen, which must mean a com- ? 
munion that the noble can only enjoy, we ) 
see that each respects the other for mutual s 
superiorities, each is stimulated by the other \ 
and whatever opinion in the abstract they < 
may entertain on the equality of nature be- ^ 
tAveen irian and Avoman, it is virtually nega- j 
tired in themselves, for most truly does each < 
give the other the precedent on the score \ 
of high nobility; .and is not the fullest kind ; 
of love, Avhen its home is in the true soul, 
indeed and altogether a most holy and en¬ 
tire equality in thought, in aim, in hope, as 
well as in the participation of all the pleasures 
and responsibilities God has united to such 
love alone? We cannot avoid the conclu¬ 
sion, paradoxical though it be, that both are 
best, for we seem to be handling a very 
chameleon of a question, seeing that in one 
light strongest admiration is-due to man; in 
another, and woman wears the fairer crown; 
again, and they Avill nok/»be vieAved apart, 
but their commingled hues disclose a wre.ath 
fairest of all, and from the light emanating 
from the glowing petals we see richest flow¬ 
ers blooming, and work accomplished that 
has brought back the olden time, for the 
Garden of Eden is once more around us, 
and in the evening hour do men, as Adam 
of yore, converse with archangels in its sun¬ 
ny glades.— Westminister Review. 
