ter life. During a long sickness which
his wife had in Naples in 1858, his thoughts became more and more fixed
upon this subject; and meeting with an old friend there, the Rev. Mr.
Waterson, he opened his mind to him as perhaps he had never done to any
one before. Mr. Waterson tells us:--

"At this time I received a note from him stating that there was a
subject of interest upon which he would like to converse with me.
On the following day, the weather being delightful, we walked in
the Villa Reale, the royal park or garden, overlooking the Bay of
Naples. Never can I forget the beautiful spirit that breathed
through every word he uttered,--the reverent love, the confiding
trust, the aspiring hope, the rooted faith. Every thought, every
view, was generous and comprehensive. Anxiously watching, as he had
been doing, in that twilight boundary between this world and
another, over one more precious to him than life itself, the divine
truths and promises had come home to his mind with new power. He
said he had never united himself with the Church, which with his
present feelings he would most gladly do. He then asked if it would
be agreeable to me to come to his room on the morrow, and
administer the Communion,--adding that as he had not been baptized,
he desired that ordinance at the same time. The day following was
the Sabbath, and a most heavenly day. In fulfilment of his wishes,
in his own quiet room, a company of seven persons celebrated
together the Lord's Supper. With hymns, selections from the
Scripture, and devotional exercises, we went back in thought to the
large upper-room where Christ first instituted the Holy Supper in
the midst of his disciples. Previous to the breaking of bread,
William Cullen Bryant was baptized. With snow-white head and
flowing beard, he stood like one of the ancient prophets; and
never, perhaps, since the days of the Apostles, has a truer
disciple professed allegiance to the Divine Master."

A purer and nobler life than Mr. Bryant led has hardly been chronicled
in our day; and the quiet and calm of his closing years was a fitting
end to such a life. He was tenderly cared for during these years by his
daughters, to whom he was most devotedly attached. His son-in-law, Parke
Godwin, thus writes of the closing years:--

"It was very curious to his friends to o