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life and never read the lessons of purity, of beauty
and life beyond; loses a thousand sweet thoughts
and consolations that help to lighten the burthen
of life. To such an one though "the wilderness blossom
as the rose" life is one dreary waste.

And music, soul inspiring music; ah!
it has ever a voice to me; it fills my heart, till
I mount or I fall with its cadence and melody. All
through the world, the great Creator has set his
handiwork to strains of harmony. The ocean is the
bass, deep wonderful and grand; The winds are
the soprano, now soft and sweet and ^as the murmurs
of a shell, now rising and swelling and clear as an
aeolian harp; and the birds and the streams are
tenor and alto. Glorious music and free to all as
the air we breathe; glorious, touching music that ever
seemed to me but an ernest of the golden harps and
the melody of angels and seraphs in the city of the
golden gates.

But perhaps you will think me
enthusiastic. Well, I believe I had rather be thought