DIED, on the 20th of First month, 1867, at his

losing sight of the spirituality of our profession. coming reverence for that great truth, the perGeorge Fox, who passed through the dispen- ceptible influence of the spirit of God on the sations of an outward religion, found not that minds of men." for which he was hungering and thirsting, until he was brought into silent communion with the residence, Bay Side, Long Island, HENRY C. BOWRON, Divine mind. After this he could testify of the in the 70th year of his age. He was a member of life giving presence of Him, who continues, in New York Monthly Meeting, and occupied the station of Elder and Overseer for many years, during which accordance with the ancient promise, to be time the maintenance of good order and the right found of those who seek Him; and in unison administration of our discipline were objects of his earnest solicitude, while the strict integrity and upwith this soul-inspiring faith, he and his cotem-rightness of his character won the love and respect poraries when assembled for public worship of all who knew him. adopted the form of silent waiting, in order to hear the "still small voice," which is no other than the sure word of prophecy alluded to by the Apostle, "to which," he said, "ye do well that ye take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, until the day dawn, and the day. star arise in your hearts."

Let us not, under a plea that silent worship. is "less suited to the partially instructed and the young," suffer innovations upon this wholesome order; but rather endeavor to impress such with the nature of our obligations to the Father of Spirits, and our dependence upon Him for that bread which can alone sustain the spiritual life. "They that worship the Father," said the blessed Jesus, "must worship Him in spirit and in truth;" and when assembled for this exalted purpose, if He pleases to qualify His servants to minister in His name, then indeed may we drink, through instrumental means, of the refreshing Gospel stream, and be edified together in Love.

We acknowledge the need of engaging the attention of our young Friends in some way by which they may be made more fully acquainted with the testimonies of the Society in which they have a birthright. And so far from ignoring outward helps, we consider them most valuable in their proper places. Among them we number the "Meetings for Readings," which have been instituted in some neighborhoods before the hour for the meeting for worship, in which the old and the young mingle together with interest and profit.

Most fully do we believe with C. T. that were Friends "at this juncture true to the principles preached by their forefathers, and still nominally held, the present would be the accepted time in which to speak out boldly for liberty and freedom of thought; and with be

after a short illness, at his residence in West

He

Liberty, Iowa, on Sixth-day evening, the 14th ult.,
DAVID STRATTON, in the 74th year of his age.
was a truly exemplary and wor hy member of Wap-
senonoc Monthly Meeting, giving evidence by his
daily life, by his calm serenity, and by his clear views
and elevated counsel, that he had been taught in the
school of Christ.

MARY, widow of Israel Hallowell, in her 87th year;

on the morning of Sixth month 26th, 1867,

a member of Abington Monthly Meeting.

, on the 26 h of Sixth month, 1867, in West

Philadelphia, of paralysis, HANNAH, daughter of the late Jacob and Mary Hamer, aged 64 years; a member of Philadelphia Monthly Meeting.

on the 30th of Sixth mouth, 1867, JOSEPH GREEN, in bis 77th year; a member of Philadelphia Monthly Meeting.

28th, STANTON DORSEY, aged 59 years; a member of Green Street Monthly and Germantown Particular Meeting.

at his residence in Germantown, Sixth mo.

A parasol and other articles, found at Swarthmore, at the time of the recent 66 Reunion," can be reclaimed by applying at 717 Willow street.

EMINENT BOOKS.

All eminent books are expressional of their age, and so monumental of it in the worthiest way. Marble or colors preserve in memory the features of a friend, but even more excellently do books deliver to us the form and features of pictured forms move forth from the canvas. a time. For marble lips will not unclose, nor Winter after winter the portrait's gaze is on the family, but the hand will not touch or the voice greet us. But in books the dead live for us, and discourse to us with staid eloquence, of the thought, the feeling, and the customs of their times. The words which they spoke to their contemporaries they speak to us; and following their guidance, with them we walk through avenues of thought, as of a garden, towards a terrace whence a river or a city may be seen. We perceive the river of the time with its current, or observe the city of works and customs, with its thronging crowds, and see how the general habit of life formed itself. So it is

or portraiture, for we have the departed for our companions and friends, and their words still uttered in our hearing.-Thos. T. Lynch.

that books are more monumental than marble

THE WONDERFUL MOTHER.

showed him a sleeping-place in one of the stalls in the stable where the horses of a certain prince were kept. In this stall there stood an

confined, for the beast was very wild and angry. The little Savoyard boy who had come in the darkness into the stable, neither knew nor cared for any wild beast that might be near by. He lay down upon some straw, and stretched

it out, he put it between the wires of the cage in which the bear was, and found that a large pile was there. Thinking it was better to get where it was than to stay in his place, he crawled up to the cage and squeezed through between the iron bars. The bear grunted a little, but committed no violence. The little Savoyard boy offered to God a prayer which his departed mother had taught him, and committed himself to the keeping of his Heavenly Father. He asked for protection from the cold, and he was protected both from the cold and the wild beast.

In the winter of the year 1709 there was one of the coldest spells of weather ever known in Central Europe. In France a great many peo-iron cage, in which a large brown bear was ple froze to death, even in their beds, not only among the mountains, but in villages and cities. The hottest fire was not sufficient to keep the rooms warm; while the stoves were red hot, the water would freeze but a few feet from them The trees in the forest and by the roadside be-out his hand to pull in more. As he stretched came so frozen that some of them burst, and made a noise as if a small mine had exploded Sparrows, and jackdaws, and crows sometimes fell down dead while flying in the air. Large flocks of sheep and cattle froze in barnyards. The bats, which usually sleep during the winter, were awakened out of their torpid slumber, fluttered around a little while, and then fell dead on the ground. The deer in the forests could no more run swiftly, but crept slowly out of the woods, and came near the dwellings of men. Finally spring came, and a multitude of them were found dead in the woods The little lakes, brocks and rivers, after they had been thawed by the sun, emitted a very unpleasant odor, because nearly all the fish in them had been frozen to death. Of course the people suffered from extreme poverty, for the cold weather had destroyed many of their means of support. The wheat that had been sowed in the autumn, their sheep, fowls, fish, and vegetables that had been covered in the ground, were completely destroyed by the

frost.

During this winter a poor little Savoyard boy was wandering in the streets of Luneville, in Lothringid. He was a pitiable orphan. His older brother, who had taken care of him, had now gone on a message to the city of Nancy, to earn a few francs. But he suffered the fate of many travellers, and was frozen to death; for many of the passengers in the stages and riders on horseback, though covered with cloaks and furs, were frozen. The drivers lost their lives, and still held the reins in their stiff hands.

The bear took the little stranger between her paws and pressed him to her, so that he lay in her warm breast and against her thick skin so comfortably that he who had not slept many nights with any comfort whatever now forgot all fear, and soon fell into a sweet, deep sleep.

In the morning the little boy waked up with new strength, crept out from the cage, and went into the city to attend to his business and seek his daily bread. In the evening he returned to his strange mother.

Beside her there lay a great many pieces of bread and meat, which had been brought there from the table of the prince; but the bear had eaten all she wanted, and these were left over. So the little Savoyard helped himself to all that he could find. He then lay quietly down between the paws of his thick-clad mother, who pressed him to her as she had done the night before, and he slept there as if in the warmest feather bed.

In this way he spent five nights without any body's knowing it. On the morning of the The little forsaken Savoyard boy wandered sixth night he overslept himself, so that when from one house to another, to get a little em- the hostlers went around with their lanterns in ployment, or a piece of bread. He was glad the early morning, to attend to the many horses to blacken boots and shoes, dust clothes, clean in the stable, they saw him lying between the dishes in the kitchen, or do any thing that paws of the great bear. The old bear grunted would gain him a sou. But when night came a little, as if she was very much offended that on, his sufferings became intense. He had slept with his brother, in a carpenter's shop, where the two had covered themselves with an old foot-cloth, on which they piled shavings very high. They lay very close together, and This affair became known, and created great by this means managed to be protected from astonishment throughout the city. Although the severity of the cold. But he was now the modest little Savoyard was very much alone, and he would certainly freeze if he tried ashamed that anybody should know that he to sleep alone in the carpenter's shop. The had slept in the arms of a bear, he was ordered wife of a hostler took compassion on him, She to appear in the presence of the prince, to

anybody should see her taking care of her little favorite. The little Savoyard sprang up and squeezed out through the cage, to the great wonder of the bystanders.

The Scriptures have been translated into 118 languages and dialects, of which 121 had, prior to the formation of the British Foreign Bible There is a Bible in the library of the UniSociety, never appeared. And 25 of these lan-versity of Goettingen, written on 5,475 palm guages existed without an alphabet, in an oral form. Upward of 43,000,000 of those copies of the Scriptures are circulated among not less than 600,000,000 of people.

The first division into chapters and verses is attributed to Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, in the reign of King John, in the latter part of the twelfth century, or the begin-eighth ning of the thirteenth. Cardinal Hugo, in the middle of the thirteenth century, divided the Old Testament into chapters, as they stand in our translation. In 1661, Athias, a Jew of Amsterdam, divided the sections of Hugo into verses, a French printer had previously (1561) divided the New Testament into verses as they are at present.

I will therefore quiet and content myself with the inconveniences of my short journey, for my accommodations will be admirable when I come to my home, that heavenly Jerusalem, which is the place of my rest and happiness -Sir Matthew Hale.

REPLANTING OF FORESTS.

It would be difficult for any one in England, or anywhere else in the North of Europe, says the London Times, to conceive a just idea of the importance which the subject of the replanting of forests has acquired in France, no less than in Spain and Italy. Let us say a few words, for our own country in this matter. Until of late years the uppermost thought in the minds of the rural population of the United States would be to clear the land of trees, which everywhere, away from the prairies and the plains, the first settlers, the pioneers in civilization, regarded in the light of obstructions. In some parts, particularly in the older or Atlantic States, we might speak of the inhabitants in the same language in which the writer in the Times does of the Latin races, whose hatred of all shade "makes them look upon even a bush as a very upas tree-a nest for seed-devouring birds and a lurking place for robbers."

orological records, that there is scarcely any appreciable change of temperature from this cause. Doctor Dove cites several facts to show the drying up of springs and streams after a country has been cleared of its timber, and then renewed when left to be again clothed with forests. It is generally conceded that the rivers of moderate size are much less in volume after the clearing of a country than before. Mr. Blod. get, in his elaborate treatise on the Climatology of the United States, believes that "the whole change of condition is limited to the surface, and is one merely dependant on the retention and slow evaporation in the forest, in contrast with the rapid drainage and prompt evaporation on the open surface." The English writer already cited tells us that the whole aspect of Southern Europe, its soil and climate, have been materially affected by the denudation of its surface. Uurestrained by any vegetation and barrier afforded by trees and the interlacing of the roots of these, the melting of snow on the mountains and hill sides and heavy rains give rise to torrents which rush down, wearing the land, even to the plains, into deep gullies, and carrying off all the finest and most valuable particles of the soil. "Sunny Spain," even more than Southern France and Italy, has suffered from the operation of these causes, as is seen in entire provinces arid and barren.-Public Ledger.

SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE.

Even at the present time the Venetians make one of the earliest uses of their freedom by cutting the timber off the crests of the Friuli mountains. In our own country, North and South, how painfully common is the sight of large farm houses, and of stately mansions too, It is not our want of aptitude for doing good without any protecting trees, exposed in summer which stands in our way, half so much as it is to the tropical heat of a southern and western our want of communion with God. The rule sun; in winter to the unmitigated rage of winds is, "Oh! taste and see that the Lord is good!" and storms! Too often extensive pastures are Out of this experimental acquaintance with unrelieved by a clump of trees to afford a need- truth grows our-power to fitly offer it. Only ful shelter in the heats of summer to the cattle thus can we learn to recommend the various feeding in them. The inberited enmity to trees viands on the table of the gospel feast. Scholarpays the penalty of personal discomfort and suf-ship becomes a means to an end. It is not the fering, and of diminished yield of the dairy. A change happily is coming over the minds of our people, and although the laying bare of their mountain sides and denuding their low lands of forest timber have not been carried to the destructive extent, nor attended with the damaging results, of similar practices in Southern Europe, yet it is now becoming a question not only for discussion, but one calling for early remedial action. Ship and house builders and makers of railroads will not be among those who may feel disposed to smile at the suggestion to replant

show of splendid attainments, but the hidden. force of piety underlying them, which affects the souls we hope to influence.

The gospel light is much like the solar light; its beauty is not its efficiency. You may divide the sunbeam into seven beautiful colors, and not one alone nor all together will imprint an image on a daguerreotype plate. Just outside the spectrum in the dark, there is one entirely invisible ray, called the chemical ray, which does all the work. No man ever saw it, no man ever felt it; and yet this it is which bleaches and blackens a dull surface into figures Climatic changes, attributed to the exposure of loveliness and life. I care not how luminous of the surface of the soil by cutting down the a man's personal or intellectual qualities may forests which once covered it have not been be, if he lacks amid the showy beams that are clearly proved. Dr. Drake, in his great work shining this one which is viewless-this efficient on the Climate, Topography and Diseases of the but inconspicuous beam of spiritual experience Valley of the Mississippi, infers, from the result-all his endeavors will surely prove inoperative of extended observations and the study of mete- for good.—Dr. Robinson in Hours at Пome.

forest trees.