' tears and orphans' grief;
through struggle and privation; by the stern baptism of blood, the
nation is being awakened to its deficiencies, is being called to the
development of higher virtues.

This latest lesson of history is solemn and impressive. Fruitlessly
shall communities teem with material advantages and wealth; in vain
shall peoples increase their industrial resources; futile the
universality of education and the liberalizing results of intellectual
growth; these shall endure but for a season, as the glitter on the
waves, unless the national life is grounded on religious devotion to the
highest truth, and is practically active in securing the social welfare
of the brotherhood of man.

TREASURE-TROVE.

A day in the heart of summer,
A sky of that glorious hue
That dazzles and melts like the ocean,
In its fathomless, infinite blue!

The topmost leaves of the maple
Are stirred by a wondrous song,
That swells, and dies; then rising,
Still clearer floats along.

Oh, where have I heard that music?
Whence its familiar tone?
The beauty that thrills it, trembles
Not in the song alone:

It dwells in sunsets, that deepen
In the glory and gloom of night;
In waters that glance and sparkle,
In the hush of the lingering light.

Like the waves of a springing river,
That from silver fountains wells;
Higher, and fuller, and sweeter
That liquid melody swells.

Oh, the haunting, dim-shadowed expression,
That sighs on the breathless air!
If ever a soul were in music,
A soul is thrilling there!

That song, with its burden immortal,
I heard it long ago!
I know its every cadence,
That quivers and pulses so:

I claim it, bird of summer!
That wondrous song of thine;
Though thine its tuneful utterance,
Its melody is mine.

Then sing till, tranced in rapture,
The day forgets to wane;
And the winds of heaven are silent,
To hear that magic strain.

Sing till the pain of thy transport
O'erpowers each dying tone!
Thou canst not warble a measure
That is not all mine own.

MATTER AND SPIRIT.

Mr. Editor: In the July number of THE CONTINENTAL, I notice some
editorial remarks upon a portion of my article 'Touching the Soul,'
which appeared in the June number. For these remarks I am under
obligation to you, as pointing out the looseness of my phraseology,
whereby I have failed t