brought it home-the word 'Nature' on the title page took her eyes, and she thought she might be pleased with it. But, la, I don't wonder that the author was ashamed to put his name to it, it is such a wishy-washy thing. We tried to read it, but it was so dry and flat, after reading Mrs. Rowson, I gave it to the baby. She is tickled to death with it; she has had a wild frolick with its rattling leaves, and has been cutting her teeth on the cover. a first rate tooth-cutter, don't you see it is? It has saved me the expense of an India-rubber ring. if you want it, and keep it, in welcome."

It's

Take it home,

I took it home and read it twice through. It contained some opinions that did not square with my own, nor add at all to its interest or beauty. But, with few exceptions, I read it with a rare delight. It seemed the expression of a thousand thoughts in my own mind which I had not found words to utter; and it described scenes and impressions which I could not have attempted, yet, which I fancied I remembered to have witnessed and felt. I took it to the Circle, and it was now opened as the book of the evening.

Neal Derby read the Introduction, and it was generally understood. The first page, in particular, was spoken of as very fine. Julia was so pleased, she took the volume and repeated this sentence as true and beautiful: "The foregoing generations beheld God and nature face to face; we, through their eyes. Why should not we also enjoy an original relation to the universe?"

Then Julia read the first chapter, on "Nature." Several criticisms were offered. Miss Mumby liked the

reading, "but for her life she could not get interested in the story," and Neal Derby thought it a little dry. Milly Dorlon hoped it would interest her more as we proceeded. But a few of us were animated as by inspiration. Anna Logan was "all ear," like the Spirit in "Comus," to take in its beauty, and she cried-" a body of my little learning must be a dunce of a judge indeed; but I say for it, Miss O'Warden, as I understand it, that's a web of real glossy silk, and none of your rusty linsey-woolsey. Read that again about the stars, if you please, Miss O'Warden. That's a bit of beauty, I'm sure it is."

Julia read-" If a man would be alone, let him look at the stars. The rays that come from those heavenly worlds, will separate between him and vulgar things. One might think the atmosphere was made transparent with this design, to give man, in the heavenly bodies, the perpetual presence of the sublime. Seen in the streets of cities, how great they are! If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown. But every night come out these preachers of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile."

Fanny Olney admired the passage on the woods. "I thought you were reading prose till you came to that," said she, "but that is poetry, I'm sure it is."

"No, it is prose," replied Julia.

"Let me take the book and see for myself. It is

prose

in form, certainly, but poetry in thought and measure. Did

none of you mind its lyrical measure?"

"I did," answered Celia Downs, her face kindling

with the light of thought.

"And sure I did. It ran round and round like a thread on a reel" cried Anna Logan.

66

I can read it without altering a word, and make good blank verse of anapestic measure," said Fanny

"In the woods, too, a man casts off his years,

As the snake his slough,

And at what period soever of life,

Is always a child.

In the woods, is perpetual youth.
Within these plantations of God,

A decorum and sanctity reign,

A perennial festival's dressed,

And the guest sees not how he should tire
Of them in a thousand years."

The girls were sustained, and I called their attention to the passage on the landscape. Miss Mumby thought it silly enough, in a printed book, to say,-" Standing on the bare ground—my head bathed by the blithe air and uplifted into infinite space-I become a transparent eyeball." Celia Downs declared there was a fine suggestion in the language. Neal Derby remarked that he might understand it better if he stood on his head. George Milbank admired the close of the chapter.

Fanny Olney read the chapter on "Commodity," and Neal Derby read the one on "Beauty." He read it eloquently, and began, from that instant, to take an interest. So did Amelia, while others of the Circle enjoyed the finest pleasure. Fanny read for the second time this passage" How does Nature deify us with a few and cheap elements! Give me health and a day, and I will

make the pomp of emperors ridiculous. The dawn is my Assyria; the sunset and moonrise my Paphos and unimaginable realms of faerie; broad noon shall be my England of the senses and the understanding; the night shall be my Germany of mystic philosophy and dreams.” I remarked that I should remember that thought in all my rambles, and feel how wealthy I was with the assurance of the author, that " every rational creature has all

nature for a dowry and estate."

But there was not time for all we wanted to say, and the book was passed to Arabella Puffit, who had come with an acquaintance without any invitation. She was somewhat vain of her reading, and was anxious all the evening to get the book into her hands and display her accomplishment. She read, but while by her very emphases we knew she did not understand the author, she made such fashionable work with her vowels, and lisped and minced so genteelly, her very s's hissed her, and her audience failed to understand a word.

Celia Downs took the volume and was requested to read that fine passage again. Several admired particular sentences, while Milbank was struck with this: "The world is emblematic. Parts of speech are metaphors, because the whole of nature is a metaphor of the human mind."

I saw a world of meaning in the words, while Miss Mumby rubbed her eyes and called them downright nonAnd Arabella Puffit thought as much a month ago," and declared she would have staid away had she known that shallow book was to be read. But the volume

sense.

required double the number of its own words to point out its meanings and beauties, and it was passed to Agnes Newman, who read the chapter on "Discipline." As she concluded, Anna Logan cried, "I declare again, there is more of his musical measure as you call it. For the round world it sounds just as I've heard the wood-thrushes sing,

Other comments were made on the book, and Miss Mumby read the chapter on " Idealism," and cried, "I will not try to understand it—so there! It is unfit even for a baby to cut her teeth on." But others admired. Anna Logan felt more beauty than she could express, and said, "Miss Mumby understands with her elbows, I think." Here Miss Puffit arose and went to the mantelpiece, and interrupted our reading by criticising a pair of marble busts. "I have a better pair of busts for my mantel—a pair of splendid fancy pieces," said she, addressing Miss Warden; " and they make yours look tame enough, Jule."

"Mine suit me very well," replied Miss Warden.

This one is tolerable--but why didn't you get two alike while you were about it?" continued Arabella, tossing about as if on elliptic springs, and glancing often into the mirror.