The Press., 1894-02-22
WRITTEN IN ELLINGTON.

A series of praise meetings are being held at the Universalist church in Mon son, at which c. w. Ely, director of the and incidents connected with each hymn sung. Last Sunday evening the hymns sung were written by women, and among the number was one commencing
 Il love to steal awhile away From every cumbering care.''
 This hymn has somewhat of a local inter- est, and we give the history and incidents | Phoebe Hinsdale was the daughter of George Hinsdale. She was born at Ca naan, N. Y., May 1, 1873, and was left an orphan at two years of age. She never had more than three months consecutive school instruction, and was eighteen be- poor and pressed by the daily cares of the house, she did not improve her worldly fortunes by marriage to Timothy H. Brown, who took her with him to Filing her pen; here she crept away at dusk from her children and her poverty to a grove near by to think and write and pray. The gossips who observed these evening walks put their own coarse construction upon them. Mrs. Browns own words are as follows:- ''It was in Ellington, Conn. I wrote the twilight hymn. I had been out on a visit to Dr. Hyde's, and several were present. After tea one of my neighbors, whom l had ever felt was my superior in every | way, came and sat down near me, chat l ting with another lady without noticing me. Just as was rising to go home, she turned suddenly upon me and said: Mrs. Brown, why do you come up at evening so near our house, and then go back with out coming in? If you want anything why don't you come in and ask for it 1 could not think who it was and sent my girl down the garden to see, and she said it was you, that you came to the fence, then turned quickly away muttering something to yourself There was something in her manner more than her words that grieved me. I went home and that evening was left alone with my children When all were in bed except my baby Tsat down in the kitchen with my child in my arms, took pen and paper and gave vent to my oppressed heart in what called my apol- ogy for my twilight rambles, addressed to lady"
 quote as originally written, because it shows what sweet answer it was to the remarks made to her. It was dated FL lington, o., August 1818: Yes, when the toilsome day is gone, And night with banners gray | Steals.silently the glade along In twilight's soft array, ! I love to steal awhile away From little ones, and care, And spend the hours of setting day | In solitude and prayer. love to feast on nature's scenes When falls the evening dew | And dwell upon her silent themes, | Forever rich and new. love in solitude to shed The penitential tear,
 And all Gods promises to plead,
 -, Where none can see or hear. love to think on mercies past, >:. And future ones implore, | And all my cares and sorrows cast On Him whom I adore. ...--.
 Hove by faith to take.a view Of blissful scenes in heaven, The sight doth all my strength renew, While here by storms Pm driven. love this silent twilight hour Far better than the rest t;- It is of all the twenty-four, The happiest and the best. Thus when life's toilsome day is oer, e
 May it's departing ray
 Be calm as this impressive hour,
 And lead to endless day. | Whether these lines ever reached hel neighbor is not told, but Mrs. Brown soor moved to our neighboring town of Mon son, where she lived for nearly thirty years,5 and it was while living there that these verses first came to light