H

still hangs blossoming in the garden of time, while its penetrating perfume floats all round the world, and intoxicates all other nations with the hope of liberty.

Knowing that the life of every nation, as of each individual, is a battle, let us remember, also, that the battle is to those who fight with faith and undespairing devotion. Knowing that nothing is worth fighting for at all unless God reigns, let us, at least, believe as much in the goodness of God as we do in the dexterity of the devil. And, viewing this prodigious spectacle of our country this hope of humanity, this young America, our America-taking the sun full in its front, and making for the future as boldly and blithely as the young David for Goliath, let us believe with all our hearts, and from that faith shall spring the fact that David, and not Goliath, is to win the day; and that, out of the high-hearted dreams of wise and good men about our country, Time, however invisibly and inscrutably, is, at this moment, slowly hewing the most colossal and resplendent result in history.

A HIDDEN WORLD.

OLIVE E. DANA, an American journalist. In the New England Journal.
The hidden world lies in the hand of God,

Waiting, like seed, to fall on the sod;

Tranquil its lakes were, and lovely its shores,

While idly each stream o'er the fretting rocks pours.

Its forests are fair and its mines fathomless,

Grand are its mountains in their loftiness;

Its fields wait the plow, and its harbors the ships,
No sail down the blue of the water-way slips.
God keeps in his palm, through centuries dim,
This hid, idle seed. It belongeth to him.
Away in a corner, where God only knows,
The seed when he plants it quickens and grows.

The pale buds unfold as the nations pass by,
The fragrance is grateful, the blooms multiply,
But it is blossom time, this what we see;

Who knows what the fullness of harvest will be.

COLUMBIA THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD.

TIMOTHY DWIGHT, an American divine and scholar. Born at Northampton, Mass., May 14, 1752; died at New Haven, Conn., January 11, 1817.

Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,

The queen of the world and the child of the skies.

A DEFINITION OF PATRIOTISM.

T. M. EDDY, an eloquent speaker and profound scholar. Born, 1823; died, 1874. From an oration delivered on Independence Day.

Patriotism is the love of country. It has ever been recognized among the cardinal virtues of true men, and he who was destitute of it has been considered an ingrate. Even among the icy desolations of the far north we expect to find, and do find, an ardent affection for the land of nativity, the home of childhood, youth, and age. There is much in our country to create and foster this sentiment. It is a country of imperial dimensions, reaching from sea to sea, and almost "from the rivers to the ends of the earth." None of the empires of old could compare with it in this regard. It is washed by two great oceans, while its lakes are vast inland seas. Its rivers are silver lines of beauty and commerce. Its grand mountain chains are the links of God's forging and welding, binding together North and South, East and West. It is a land of glorious memories. It was peopled by the picked men of Europe, who came hither, "not for wrath, but conscience' sake." Said the younger Winthrop to his father, "I shall call that

my country where I may most glorify God and enjoy the presence of my dearest friends." And so came godly men and devoted women, flying from oppressive statutes, where they might find

Freedom to worship God.

There are spots on the sun, and the microscope reveals flaws in burnished steel, and so there were spots and flaws in the character of the early founders of this land; but with them all, our colonial history is one that stirs the blood and quickens the pulse of him who reads. It is the land of the free school, the free press, and the free pulpit. It is impossible to compute the power of this trio. The free schools, open to rich and poor, bind together the people in educational bonds, and in the common memories of the recitation-room and the playground; and how strong they are, you, reader, well know, as some past recollection tugs at your heart-strings. The free press may not always. be altogether as dignified or elevated as the more highly cultivated may desire, but it is ever open to complaints of the people; is ever watchful of popular rights and jealous of class encroachments, and the highest in authority know that it is above President or Senate. The free pulpit, sustained not by legally exacted tithes wrung from an unwilling people, but by the free-will offerings of loving supporters, gathers about it the millions, inculcates the highest morality, points to brighter worlds, and when occasion demands will not be silent before political wrongs. Its power, simply as an educating agency, can scarcely be estimated. In this country its freedom gives a competition so vigorous that it must remain in direct popular sympathy. How strong it is, the country saw when its voice was lifted in the old cry, "Rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft." Its words started the slumbering, roused the careless, and called the "sacramental host," as well as the "men of the