1 
r jw m 
§ um & m 
’kbits' flott-^tolra. 
ONE. • 
To .sit with hands crossed, and to think 
How you clasped thorn last night; 
Close eyes, and .lust pause on the brink 
Ofa kiss’s delight. 
To start trom that wild dream of two, 
And waken—Just one; 
To fed hove so near, and not you; 
Sitting elull in the sun— 
Unconsnled hy the warmth of a vow 
Which, forgotten by you, 
Might burn through my soul oven now. 
Where one sits, and not two. 
For that hand-clasp was only a chance, 
That kiss is foregone; 
The touch that left me in a trance, 
Of no passion was born. 
You passed, turned your head with a smile, 
I smiled ns you wont: 
One careless; one thinking the while 
Of all that Love meant. 
And Love comes but once in a life. 
With Its bitter-sweet pain. 
I shall live through its longing and strife, 
Count loss, hide my slain. 
And you ? Life may hold to your mind 
The plnasures men prise. 
For a fair face Is easy to find. 
And love-lighted i#es. 
And yet—are you loved every day? 
Though 1 shiver itlone. 
What this hour might prove who may say. 
If two sat here—not one? 
[Overland Monthly. 
■ - 
HOPE’S SONG. 
I itEAn it singing, singing sweetly, 
Softly in an undertone; 
Singing as if GOD had taught it, 
“ it is better further on!" 
Night and day it sings the same song; 
Singa it while t sit alone. 
Sings so that the heart may hear it, 
"It is bettor further on!" 
Sits upon the grave and sings It; 
Sings it when the heart would groan; 
Sings it, when the shadows darken— 
" It is better f urtbor on!" 
Further on? Out how much furthor? 
Count the milestones, one by one; 
No ! no counting—only trusting, 
" It is better further on!" 
MY PATCH OF BLUE SKY. 
BY MAY MAPLE. 
It was ray wedding day, and all the glori¬ 
ous bright morning anthems of peace and 
love had been ringing in the upper galleries 
of my heart. I had been united to the man 
of my choice, had received the congratula¬ 
tions of friends, who were grouped about 
the parlor amid rare and beautiful flowers, 
that had been gathered from the garden 
while yet the early dew was glistening like 
costly jewels upon them. 
At three o’clock a party of us were to take 
the cars for a pleasure excursion. Wc were 
to visit the most noted places in several 
Stales — Niagara’s rushing waters, Ken¬ 
tucky’s famous cave, the White Mountains, 
etc. This Journey to me was the crowning 
glory of the occasion. I was very young, 
having yet, scarcely seen my eighteenth 
birthday, and I had never been over fifty 
miles from homo. What wonder, then, if I 
looked forward with a good deal of anxiety 
to the hoar when we should be gliding over 
the smooth iron track. 
All the morning the sky bad been serenely 
fair, not a cloud had been visible, and my 
husband had been the recipient of many flat¬ 
tering compliments, on account of the very 
amiable treasure lie had that day taken to 
cherish for his own. Of course that day was 
to be prophetic of my future behavior. But, 
alas! the sun had scarcely passed the merid¬ 
ian ere the sky was overcast; the air was 
filled with storm birds; the wind freshened 
into a brisk breeze, speeding so swiftly that 
it soon became a perfect hurricane, threat¬ 
ening to unroof houses and uproot the native 
forest trees; the rain came down in torrents. 
For three hours did the storm rage with 
tempestuous fury, then the wind ceased, the 
rain continued to descend, but more gently. 
Of course tills put an end to our departure 
for that day. I tried to bear my disappoint¬ 
ment. gracefully, for the sake of my guests, 
and also for the sake of my husband, who I 
saw was watching mo closely. 
y A -XJ 
While I stood at the window watching I 
them lift and float away to their far-off cham¬ 
bers, my husband came to my side and threw 
a strong, loving arm about, met as if he would 
gladly shield me from disappointments and 
trials, if it were possible. Ah! then 1 fell 
that hi« love was to be my patch of blue 
sky. Though clouds came, and storms 
should arise, during the journey of our 
married life, he, with his noble commanding 
presence, bis characteristic constancy, would 
ho present to assist and cheer me; and when 
the brightness of his love was not sufficient 
for all my needs, there was the love of God 
reaching on, and on, like the Armament be- 
youd the clouds; far beyond our spiritual 
vision. 
I am an old woman now, and my bus- 
band’s locks are silvered o’er with the frosts 
of many winters; yet have T ever found him 
a true comforter, when trials thickened dark 
around me, like the storm of that eventful 
day. There is no wilderness without its 
flowers; and there is no life however pros¬ 
perous, hut lays upon its altar some, blasted 
buds. 1 have had my flowers of happiness 
and buds that brought grief to my heart, 
when I found they coukl never expand. 
But, “ His love has been sufficient for me.” 
-♦♦♦- 
FRENCH AND ENGLISH GIRLS. 
The following passage is from “ Notes on 
Burgundy,” by Charles Richard Weed, just 
published in London :—The foolish and often 
insane attempt so prevalent, unfortunately, 
with our countrymen to ape their betters, is 
rarely seen in France. Contentment with 
their lot seems to be very general; and, if it, 
is a feature of the French character to he 
amused with what wo should, perhaps, call 
trifles, this custom lias, at least, the advan¬ 
tage of occupying time harmlessly. It is 
impossible, of course, to he the guest of a 
If: 
octal (fopics, 
A SONG OF THREE O’CLOCK. 
HY DO LIE HAMILTON. 
Wehk you over awuko In the mornliiKiit throe, 
When Hu 1 hiril* come from dreiitn-lund to siiiB? 
ir never awake, you have lost—ah me! 
I can ne’er tell you what—hut the ring 
Of n hundred soft tiny bells 
Were never so sweet 
To the ear they greet 
As the tale the bird-music tells. 
Were you ever away In t.ho dear woods at three, 
On a bright, balmy June afternoon ? 
ir never away, yon have lost—ah me ! 
I can ne'er tell yun what—but the tone 
Of a hundred sweet stiver strings 
Were never so dear 
To the list’ulng ear 
As the measure the inoss-bcll rings. 
French family, where there are daughters, 
without being struck by the great contrast 
between their life and that of the English 
girls. This contrast appeared to me now to 
be more striking Ilian ever. And this is the 
case; for, while the French girl lias been,so 
to speak, standing still, her life before mar¬ 
riage running in the same narrow domestic 
groove, our English girls have been accord¬ 
ed more liberty, of which they have not been 
slow to lake advantage, with what result, in 
many cases, is well known. Thus encour¬ 
aged to indulge in amusements of the most 
exciting nature, a quiet home becomes a 
bore, and their young life is spent in frivoli¬ 
ties which are sorry preparations for the 
years when they hope to lie matrons. There 
is, doubtless, much to be said against the 
French system of marrying girls to men 
whose characters they have little or no op¬ 
portunity of studying; but, though conti¬ 
nental marriages are not., as a rule, the re¬ 
sult of a mutual love, it is certain that in 
France a maidenhood of glittering but un¬ 
real splendor is rarely, if ever, succeeded by 
a wifehood of disappointment and unhappi- 
MIS JUDGED. 
BY HOSE. 
O my beloved, had 1 a spirit’s power 
To seek thy presence, this still twilight hour, 
I’d go to thee, and draw the vail aside. 
And my heart's inner temple open wide. 
I um not skilled to keep It white unit clean. 
Yet 1 fear not to have theu enter In 
E’en thou, whose h*me»t eyes of truth’s own line. 
Would scorn to shelter aught base or untrue. 
I’d show to thee each cruel, torturing doubt, 
Much Jealous tout-, each foe within, without, 
■Ualnst which I strive; till In thy tenderness 
Thou would’sfcforgive nil wrong, nor love nn; less; 
And closer fotdnil to thy faithful breast. 
1 should forget this burden of unrest. 
Then, knowing all, beloved, thou would’st sav, 
'* Dear child, I did thee grievous wrong the day 
1 thought thee changeful. Sweet heart ! now lsee 
Ilow every throb hath been a thought of mo, 
A clinging faith, an unfeigned loyalty 1" 
Riverside, Juno, 18*0. 
_-♦♦♦- 
EVERY-DAY LIFE. 
BY LEAD PENCIL, ESQ. 
“Pjivy tell mo what you call helping 
ncr. There was nothing that was not 
womanly in words or appearance. There 
was the nice appreciation of propriety, of the 
duties of employes to employer, of the work 
every day brings to every man in this busy 
world. There was a pure, tender, womanly 
light in her eye, that was so far removed 
from “hardness” that it won respectful de¬ 
ference from men of all classes and charac¬ 
ter. Looking over her subscription list V 
saw plainly that what “hardness” would 
never have accomplished, womanly dignity, 
unaffected regard for the rights of others, 
thoughtfhl propriety and consideration had 
secured. For instance, think ol Horace 
Greeley subscribing for a book; and Chas. 
A. Dana, and John Russell Young and 
nearly every prominent editor in the city!— 
men who are tortured with more hooks than 
they can even glance at; whose tables, 
shelves and closets overflow with books into 
dry goods boxes and second-hand book 
stores. And yet, each of these men was 
proud to—at leastdid—pay the tribute ofhls 
autograph and subscription of $3 for a book 
lie neither needed or wanted, to a womanly 
woman who went about trying to earn a 
livelihood in a womanly way I 
Hardness! No !—a thousand times no 1 It 
is an element that is abundant, enough among 
men. Let woman furnish, in her every-day 
life, no matter whether in contact with the 
world or secluded in her house, the comple¬ 
ment to and corrective of hardness in men 
which she alone can furnish. 
It is what is most needed in our Every- 
Day Life. 
--- 
TRUE NOBILITY OF LIFE. 
The offspring of successful families has 
not the right to take rank above the men 
around him, solely because his ancestors 
were moil of energy and position. Corrupt 
-h family, where there are daughters, olhers -. ^ my brown-eyed queen, as, in branches that are raised up by tall trees, to 
ait being struck by the great contrast i icr sn J, wy mu slin wd.li its purple trimmings, toss themselves over the nobler trees of 
she languidly mul frigidly looked in my eyes 
after I had been telling her that the greatest 
happiness and the purest 1 knew of on earth, 
comes or crucifying self to help others. 
“ That is a question which covers a broad 
creation, honor not. the parent, trunks that 
give them their lofty position. Nothing 
stands long that stands on absolute false¬ 
hood. The nobility of life lies in thought 
and works. It is a noble thing in any dc- 
OO 
abbatb taking. 
BY-AND-BY. 
By-AND-BY ! Wo siiy It softly. 
Thinking of a tender hope, 
Stirring always In our hrmonis, 
Where so many longings grope. 
By-aiul-liy ! Oh, love shall greet ua, 
In a. time that is to come, 
And the funis that n 1 ' • na, 
Then shall all ho stricken numb! 
Ry-nnd-by ! The mournful sorrows, 
Clouding o'er our sky to-day. 
Shall ho gone In glad to-morrow, - 
Shall bo banished quite away! 
By-and-by! Wo say It gently. 
Looking on our silent dead ; 
And we do not think of earth-life. 
But of heaven's sweet Hfo instead 
By-and-by ! Oh, say It, softly. 
Thinking not of earth and care. 
But tlie by-and-by of heaven. 
Waiting for us over there I 
-•——-- - - 
THE WILL OF GOD. 
Would wc learn from Christ himself, in 
what, Llic will of our Master consists, let ns 
contemplate it in the whole tenor of his in- 
struetiou anil wonderful life. Did he fnllil 
that will by pompous and formal displays of 
superior wisdom—by austere and arrogant 
pretensions to superior righteousness—by 
solicitude for ritual observances—by dogma¬ 
tism upon abstruse speculation—by a super¬ 
cilious contempt of ignorance, or ft ferocious 
intolerance of error? No; but the will of 
God, such, at least, as was that which lie ex¬ 
emplified, is to ho found in lessons of virtue, 
attractive from their simplicity, impressive 
from their earnestness, and authoritative 
from the miraculous evidence which accom¬ 
panied them; in habits of humility without 
meanness, and of meekness without, pusilla¬ 
nimity; in unwearied endeavors to console 
the afflicted, to soft,on the prejudiced, and to 
encourage the sincere; in unshaken firm¬ 
ness, to strip the mask from Pharisaical hyp¬ 
ocrites, and to quell the insolence of dicta¬ 
torial and deceitful guides; in kindness to 
his followers, in forgiveness to his perseent- 
field”' I rcidied T o best help we can give grceo i c, when a man knows his business ors, in works of the most unfeigned and un¬ 
held, i replied, t lie msi ncip we c.mgive . , __.. hounded char tv to man. and in a snirit of 
others is to teach them first the importance 
of, and pleasure lobe derived from, helping 
themselves, showing them how to do it and 
aiding them to a position where they may 
do it. A sympathy which is not practical 
is like saw-dust to a hungry horse. A char¬ 
ity which is so telescopic in its vision that 
it docs not embrace the field close about us, 
but sees only what it cannot reach, is like 
refusing to feed a hungry sparrow at the door 
and reserving the food for the eagle far above 
us who will not come down to get it. The 
work for all of us to do first in this life is that 
which is at hand now. We cannot fly until 
we have learned how. We may flutter from 
the nest; but our untried wings cannot resist, 
gravitation at first. We get tangled among 
the grass, and it is only after repeated trials 
and does it. He who does any part of the 
world’s work, not only helps himself, but 
assists those around him. It is not so much 
the work one does, but the spirit in which 
it is done, that is creditable or disgraceful. 
One of the most shameful tilings in the 
world is to be ashamed of honest work. It 
is more honorable to be an industrious boot- 
black than it is to be a lazy gentleman. A 
great, deal of the misery of the world is 
bounded charity to man, and in a spirit of 
the purest and most sublime piety to his 
Father and his God.— Parr. 
- ■*++ - 
GOD’S GLORY IN CREATION. 
Wiiy are the works of God so splendid ? 
Why is there such magnificence in every¬ 
thing we see? Why do we behold such 
multifarious, such numberless beauties, each 
row at the door great cicai oi tnc imseiy oi wh. » object surpassing the.other, and clothed with 
eagle far above caused hy people neglecting the useful field clmfms pecuUar to ilge if ? why do 1 every- 
to get it. The in which they are filled to labor, for t ie w ^ 0rjJ dnd uow S ul>jccts of admiration and 
sake of crowding into the professions for 
which they are not qualified, and where 
they are unproductive. No form of democ¬ 
racy is potent enough to associate culture 
and vulgarity, efficiency and inefficiency, but 
the humble man who does Ids duty in the 
astonishment ? For this reason: that I may 
never cease to admire and adore that great 
Being, who is infinitely greater, more sub¬ 
lime and more magnificent than any of the 
objects which He has presented to my 
seuses; that I might he led to this reflec- 
GOSSIPY PARAGRAPHS. 
The prettiest ncck-tic for a lady— the arm 
of her baby. 
Young laches, always give precedence to 
age, and never go to the wash-tub if your 
mother or grandmother are present; they 
might consider it disrespectful. 
The recent action of the jury of Wyo¬ 
ming women in convicting a man of man¬ 
slaughter, shows that the weakness of the 
sex is not prejudicial to justice—that is, fe¬ 
male juries will not favor wmfcfactors. 
“ So you arc going to keep a school ?” 
said a young lady to her old aunt. “ Well, 
for my part, sooner than do that, I would 
marry a widower with nine children.” “1 
should prefer that myself,” was the reply; 
“ hut where is the widower?” 
epigram- 
“ You men are weathercocks,” cried Rosalind. 
»»Quite true,” said I, " but woman is the wind : 
And if tiie wind its shiftlnRS would but cease, 
Tlie weathercocks might rest lu blissful peace; 
But. ii u will from every quarter blow* 
The poor things round and round muatnlwaysgo; 
Until, at last, all power or mnvemont o’er 
Worn, broken, smashed, they full to turn no 
more!" [Lippi ncott's Mn'jnzlnc. 
“ How does the Empress Eugenio dress?” 
able to mount with clean, strong sphere where nature designed to place nm, bon jf the works are so perfect, liow glo- 
■ wings, into the element or position is still as noble as the man who becomes r - 1QUS mugt bc the maker of them! If tlie 
i we are to move.” prominent in the professions or exalted with hcauty of that which He has created is in- 
very fine, Mr- Pencil, but does not power. Each must be rated t>y what he ftX p rea9 jhly great, infinitely greater must be 
lo her own teaching? Do not the is and what lie does. Each should assert B e i n g -who surveys all creation at a 
iru to fly because they cannot help the work of his manhood, but both should g j D gj c gi aflce . The more my mind is hero 
cl will not men and women rise or banish petty distinctions. expanded and enlarged by contemplating 
heir own level, in spite of anything The most vulgar tiling in the world is the greatest of all Beings, the more will it lie 
I can do?” idleness; and the idle classes arc the lowest. ca p ab i 0 of comprehending His grandeur 
; but when the young birds get classes. Honor lies only in industry. The and majesty in a future state.— Sturm. 
in the grass, and the cat is on the faithful mechanics arc the mlornersof this-- 
>r them, we may lift them to a place beautihfl world. The worm spins its cocoon THOUGHTFUL PARAGRAPHS. 
y, or confine the cats. So we may and dies, hut its work hangs in the tapestry 
ur fellow men. Every one of us lias of palaces and waves in the banners of vie- Jt is the ovcr-curious ambition of many 
The best help is to show us how tory. So the mechanics and inventors march to be best, or to he none; if they may not 
l. Each man and woman pays a far ahead of pretended aristocracy. do so well as they would, they may not do 
lition fee in the way of experience for But high above all other things stands so well as they may. Pride is the great¬ 
er education. We may sort from our nobility of thought. There is the difference est enemy to reason, and discretion the 
urn-out experiences to save others hi men. A lump of ore cannot shine like greatest opposite to pride, I see great rea¬ 
ls mistakes we have made. It is help the polished gold. The essence of nobleness son to be ashamed of my pride, hut no rea¬ 
ds. Each one of us knows, as we j s the mind with which we carryout our son to be proud of my shame Arthur War- 
ck, just where help would have saved svor [ ti The mean man never tries to rise tstefc. 
what kind of help was needed. Our ubove luiusetf, but always tries to crqsli every- The time will come when the cloud 
we are able to mount with clean, strong 
sweep of wings, into the element or position 
in which we are to move.” 
“AH very fine,Mr Pencil, but does not 
Nature do her own teaching? Do not the 
birds learu to fly because they cannot help 
it? And will not men and women rise or 
fall lo their own level, in spite of anything 
yon and I can do ?” 
“Yes; but when the young birds get 
tangled in the grass, and the cat is on the 
watch for them, we may lift them to a place 
of safety, or confine the cats. >So we may 
do for our fellow men. Every one of us has 
to learn. The best help is to show us how 
to learn. Each man and woman pays a 
heavy tuition fee in the way of experience for 
his or her education. We may sort from our 
own worn-out experiences to save others 
from the mistakes we have made. It is help 
to do this. Each one of us knows, as we 
look back, just where help would have saved 
ns, and what kind of help was needed. Our 
THOUGHTFUL PARAGRAPHS. 
It is tlie ovcr-curious ambition of many 
to be best, or to he none; if they may not 
do so well as they would, they may not do 
so well as they may. Pride is the great¬ 
est enemy to reason, and discretion the 
greatest opposite to pride. I see great rea¬ 
son to he ashamed of my pride, but no rea¬ 
son to be proud of my shame —Arthur War¬ 
wick. 
The time will come when the cloud 
f course this put an end to our departure But u it wl) , frora everv qimrtn r blow, by this knowledge.” 
a- that day. I tried to hear my disappoint- The poor things round ami round must always go; « gilt I’ve had no experience. I’m still in 
lent gracefully, for the sake of my guests, wom^brokoD,' 1 sm^hed,TimyTu no my nest. I’ve never tried to fly. My wings 
id also for the sake of my husband, who I morn!" [lippincotvs Maowine. are a i| unused. I fear the grass and the cats. 
t\v was watching mo closely. “ How does the Empress Eugenio dress?” What shall / do?” and the clear, cold, icicle 
My friends rated us unmercifully at the inquired an inquisitive female of a bachelor laughter of the bright, brown-eyed woman 
helpful spirit may be guided in ils action thing else below him. He looks out upon the which for the present prevents our distin- 
gveat universe through a mouse-hole. Shrink guisking our friends and our foes will he dis- 
froni that man who cracks open every noble persed, even that day in which the secrets of 
turn affairs had taken, saying that all wus 
not gold that glittered, and, though I might 
appear very amiable as a bride, I would 
probably make a scolding wife. 
But I did not think, because there chanced 
to be a storm on this particular occasion 
that it would necessarily affect my future 
life. Nevertheless, a feeling of sadness crept 
over me and I watched the clouds with more 
than usual interest. Suddenly a rift in the 
dark gray canopy was visible: a gentle 
breeze sprang up and wafted the mist away 
toward the cast. Yes, there was a great 
patch of blue sky away beyond the flying 
clouds, that had been so near, that tlie lofty 
elms seemed to pierce them, and though 
only a piece of azure a few yards square was 
visible yet I knew that beyond was the 
whole firmament bathed in that same serene 
peaceful blue, I could look beyond the 
clouds. 
friend just returned from Paris. “ Like a 
woman,” was the brusque reply. “ Of 
course," continued the inquirer; “but I 
wish to know whether she wears costly 
dresses.” “ I understand you, madam,” was 
the ungallant response; “she dresses like a 
woman—wearing the most costly garments 
she can procure.” 
A certain lady in Bangor, a few days 
since, having begun housekeeping in a new 
house, sent her Irish nmid-of-all-work up 
stairs, telling her to take out and clean the 
windows. Biddy disappeared in the upper 
regions, and all was quiet. In a little while, 
however, the lady went up to sec how the 
window cleaning was progressing, and to 
her horror found that the blundering girl 
had minutely followed her directions; for 
produced much the same sensation in me that 
the trickling of an ice-cold stream of water 
deed to find a crook in it. 
In all spheres we find good and great men. 
The men who work in tihe most, cramped 
positions, if they are true to thought, are 
among the nobility. Readiness of mind is 
essential to nobilitv of life. A man must he 
all hearts will be disclosed to the view of 
all. In the meantime, let us think as favor¬ 
ably as possible of all men, our particular 
opponents not excepted, and, therefore, be 
careful to conduct all hostility with the 
pleasing prospect that one day it will give 
the trickling ot an lcc-coiu stream oi war.er essent ; a i to nobility of life. A man must be pleasing prospect that one any it win give 
upon the same spot on a mau’s head an hour wil i in g t0 sec t i ie truth, and be willing to place to the most perfect amity.— Dr. Jos. 
will produce on him. j et j n Freedom of mind has no fastened Priestley. 
I did not answer, but thought—I would w j n( j ows aiu j n0 rusty hinges. The world We suppose that we carry our moral na- 
sometime. suffers from great had men and little good lure to another world, why 110 L our intel- 
, . men The greatest and noblest things that loctual nature?—farther, why not our ac- 
A woman said to-day, “ There is a certain ' , » ... , nn , r qulrements? Is it probable that, a man who 
lfinrl of lmrdneM necessary to success in the men do ar ° ? 0lie ^ t work, and not tor ^ fiCOrned bere ftl , advantages for corn- 
kind of hardness necessaiy ti 1 succ ss ge]f To n ,akerocn m love with goodness is muno wiUl the works of God, is at once to 
outside world that I lack, so 1 keep my hail ^ stril . e a Wow f orov cr at evil.—-Dr. Chapin. be enlightened, as if he had done his duty 
to the intelligence within him or about him V 
It may he noticed that, as far as wc can dis¬ 
cern, the same physical laws govern the 
most, distant parts of creation as those 
which prevail here. Moreover, what we 
bathed in that same serene the putty being soft, she had dug out every 
I could look beyond the pane of glass, and after washing them care¬ 
fully, had piled them up on the floor. 
A woman said to-day, « There is a certain mendQ ar0 done for thc W01 . u , and not for 
kind of hardness necessary to success in the gdf . Tq niakom(m i ove with goodness is 
outside world that I lack, so I keep my frail tQ gtrikc a blow lorcvCl . at evil.—Dr. Chapin. 
craft in the shallow, quiet waters, as far as __ 
l ’°Sat C remark caused me to remember a A «««that to yom* * old 
quiet, shrinking, timid-eyed young woman, in hours, if he have lost no time; but that 
who came into the office the other day and happened, rarely. Generally, youth is like 
asked if she might be permitted to canvass the first cogitations, not bo w we as the hcc- 
among thc employes of the establishment ond ; for there is a youth ui thoughts as well 
for subscriptions to a hook; and if so, what as in ages; and yet the mven .on of young 
day in the week would least disturb them at ni.cn is moio hv c y t un u o o ( » 
. _ . imaginations stream into their minus better, 
I There was no “ hardness” in face or man- antl » 33 wure » more div 
d, and 
better, 
a similar divine frugality—primps an es¬ 
sential element for tbe furtherance of life, 
and the development of energy—pervade 
creation ?—Friends in Cou ncil. 
