Year: 1865

It is my seventy. tifth birth day. As
sit by my door and look out on the still
shadows that fall across the meadows,
and hearthe soft murmuring of the leaves,
my inmost heart Us touched. Wrapped
in summer beauty, the whole earth seems
full of light and joy, as If the very spirit
Of ell life and love we're broOding over il
and enCOlding it with protected wings. -
| know that far away in the crowded city
there are noise and tumu!ts, hurrying to
and fro, the strife OF angry tongues and
the fierce discOrd Of wild, unbridled pas.
siOns but in this quiet Spet it is hard to
conceive Of these, and will not mar the
sweetness Of this hour by such unwel-
come visions. Thank God, there are
green, still places where an old man may
sit and think thoughts Of peace. Thank
God, TOO, that His voice is heard amid
the rush and roar Of crowded cities, Incl,
ting men to lofty purposes and noble
deeds, restraining the vile and encoura.
ging the weak. Yes, the protecting wing
Of the Great Spirit does indeed enfold
the world, city and country alike, and
none are shut out from His love and care


| am glad to sit here to dav and think
Think Rather should I say rene nber,
for my mind does little but present scene
after scene Of the past in vivid coloring
As | gaze on these pictures, l am a mere
looker.on ;and wonder ifthe boy see in
one Of them, the widest Of set OfsehoOl
boys, or that middle-aged man who in
another is boldly pressing his way against
all obstacles, and working by day and
night to win for himself name and place
in the busy world, can in any way be
connected with the weak old man who
sits here in his chair, and whose white
locks are stirred by the soft summer
breeze. 1t is hard to believe it, yet they
are called by the same name, and spoken
Of as one. The same, yet how strangely
different!


How things long forgotten come back
to the old man as he sits here N the still
ness. How distinctly he SEES brown
eyed little girl playing at the brook at the
bottom Of the garden; she steps out on
the narrow plank that bridges the brook,
and, sitting down on it, paddles with her
bare foot in the ripping wave, laughing
to feel its coolness, and to see the sparkling
water break into countless mirrors, each
ith the face Of tiny girl looking out Of
it. She laughs and stOops over, and
oh horror she slips off, and goes down /;
and the waters OF that little stream are
deep enough to drown her. She gasps
and rises and goes down again, her long
bright hair floating on the CLASSY wave.
Will that sweet young life be thus quench-
ed, to be seen no more on earth? A stout,
rough, bare-looted boy rusKes out from a


field, and is by her in on instant; he seiz.
es the bright locks and pulls her out. and
with check and lips as deadly white as
her own, bears her into the house, where
the horror stricken parents chafe the lit
lie limbs, and after a leng, long hour OF
suspense and fear, the brown eyes open
wildly, the faint Pickering Of br' ath is
felt, and their darling child is saved !


Again he sees that coarse, rough boy !;
he is no longer bare footed, but clothed
in his home.Spun suit is sitting, sturdy
youth. in the village schoo-house. 1t
is cold winter night. and the SHOWS are
drifting over all the hills. and piling up
in every valley, but what care those lads
and lasses for all that? The wind and
snow only make their cheeks roster, their
eyes Brighter, and stout, well-knit mus
cles firmer and more vigorous. It, is a
village singing school, and though many
Of these young men and maidenS will,
when school is done, have to face the
blast, and drive over miles Of the drifting
roads, how loud and clear ring out their
voices in the good old psalm tunes and
anthems then in vogue! And the stout,
well grown lad has the finest bass voice,
they say, Of all the choir, and bashfuly
conscious Of it, he raises it to the utmost
in the grand old " Hallelujah chorus"
which concludes the school, shyly CLAN
cling. as lie sings at q brown.eyed maiden
on the opposite seat who looks the other
way, and pretends she doesn't see him,
though he knows she does. And how
his checks redden, and his heart beats
as if it would leap out Of his bosom. as
he takes the hand of the young maiden
and puts her in his sleigh. tucking the buf'
falO round her, and drives off against the
fierce Northwestern. A three miles ride
is before them; but there is no little
warmth, aud light, and Joy in that old
fashioned sleigh; and the stars which
peeped out on them, now and then, from
between the cloud riffs, saw few fairer
sights as they looked down over the earth
that night than this true hearted, pure
minded couple. lie has never spoken to
her of love, but his heart has turned to
ward her for many year even, it may
he, from the time he drew her breathltsS
and almost llfeless, from the brook.


But other pictures rise. The boy goes
forth from his home among the hills
His heart is hot with the restless blood
of youth and green, rough village lad as
he is. he will make himself something in
the world. So he tolls and sweats and
struggles; he has success and disappoint
ments; he gains and loses ) but still he
struggles on, sometimes with good heart,
and sometimes embittered and despond-
ing, though never quite losing faith and
courage. lie sees the world and mingles
in it, that great world Witch in the dis
lance looked SO alluring, and finds it
strange compound Of good and evil he
learns, too, that in his own soul there is
also strange mingling of good and evil.
He finds his way into society, for in the
passing years he has gained reputation as
a business man, and is now taking posi-
ton among the better classes. His boy
ish awkwardness is gone, hisrude strength
has been toned down, and as he enters
polished circles his bow is as graceful, his
smile as winning, his tones as bland as ii
he had never been bare footed boy on
the mountain side; and his heart-ah, is
that as honest, as tender andt true as when
he sang in the village chOir2 We Shall
see. for there arises another picture.


He has been unfortunate. The invest
ment which was to. have brought him