The earth is robed in richer green, the sky in brighter blue;
And, with no cloud to intervene, God's smile is shining through
I hear the immortal harps that ring before the rainbow throne,
And a spirit from the heart of God is bearing up my own.
In silence on the Olivet of prayer my being bends,
Till in the orison of heaven my voice seraphic blends.

THE SNOW-LINE.

[UTE in the studio the artist stands,

MUT

The chisel fallen from his palsied hands;
The inspiration from his eye has flown;
Cold lies before him the unsculptured stone:
But deep within his patient genius waits
For God to open the immortal gates.

No change can ever reach, no darkness dim,
The love and light that are enshrined in him.
Oh, deem not then that time's apparent flight
The fruitage of the spirit e'er can blight;
The brow is silvered and the step is slow,
But thought is clear, and heart is all aglow:
For He who breathed himself into the soul
Hath all our seasons under his control,
And, while without old age a winter seems,
Within perennial summer on it gleams.

"LEAD ME."

From the "Christian Register," Dec. 20, 1873.

Y

My Father, take my hand, for I am prone
To danger, and I fear to go alone.

I trust thy guidance. Father, take my hand;
Lead thy child safely through the desert land.
The way is dark before me; take my hand,
For light can only come at thy command.

Clinging to thy dear love, no doubt I know,
That love will cheer my way where'er I go.
Father, the storm is breaking o'er me wild,
I feel its bitterness, protect thy child.
The tempest-clouds are flying through the air,
Oh, take my hand, and save me from despair.
Father, as I ascend the craggy steep
That leads me to thy temple, let me keep
My hand in thine, so I can conquer time
And by thine aiding to thy bosom climb.
Father, I feel the damp upon my brow,
The chill of death is falling on me now.
Soon from earth's flitting shadows I must part;
My Father, take my hand, thou hast my heart.

FREDERIC AUGUSTUS WHITNEY.

(1812.)

REV. FREDERIC A. WHITNEY, son of Rev. Peter Whitney and Jane (Lincoln) Whitney, was born in Quincy, Mass., Sept. 18, 1812. His father, grandfather, and great-grandfather were ministers, each, nearly fifty years and until death, of the First Congregational Liberal Churches of Quincy, Northboro', and Petersham, respectively. His brother, Rev. George Whitney, was one of the Unitarian ministers in Roxbury.

While a student in Harvard College, he was also a mathematical tutor in the private school of William Wells, of Cambridge; and on graduating, in 1833, he was associated for two years, as instructor, with Stephen M. Weld, in a classical school at Jamaica Plain. He graduated at the Cambridge Divinity School in 1838, and was afterward employed for some time by the American Unitarian Association in missionary service in Massachusetts, and in the South and West. He took charge of the First Congregational Church at Brighton, near Boston, in April, 1843, and remained its pastor for sixteen years. He still resides there, often preaching in different places, and steadily pursuing his favorite historical and literary studies. He was married, Jan. 11, 1853, to Elizabeth Perkins, daughter of the late William Perkins Matchett, of Boston.

The titles of most of his numerous published works are given in the large and admirably arranged catalogue, which, with a dictionary of pseudonymes appended, he prepared, in 1872, for the Brighton Public

Library. Of these we may mention, An Historical Sketch of the Old Church at Quincy, Mass.; Biographical Sketches of Josiah Quincy, Jr., and of John Hancock; Biography of James Holton, founder of the Holton Library; Oration at the Dedication of the Soldiers' Monument at Brighton, with an historical Appendix; Biographical Sketches of Soldiers who fell in the late War; Address at the Consecration of Evergreen Cemetery, with an historical Appendix; Discourses at the public funerals of Madam Susanna Park Champney, who died in her 95th year, and Edward Sparhawk, who died in his 97th, the genealogy of the Champney and Park families being given in connection with the first of these published addresses; A Treatise on Temperance; Discourse on the Early New England Home, and Sermon on the death of little children; Nine Annual Reports as President of the Trustees of the Public Library; thirteen Annual Reports as Chairman of the School Committee; Reports as Secretary of the Middlesex Sunday School Society; various articles in periodicals and reviews, &c. All these catalogues, biographies, genealogies, sketches, and reports abound in evidence of the most conscientious and painstaking care in their preparation, show on the part of the writer a habit of patient research, a remarkable accuracy of statement, and a wide acquaintance with books and local history, and altogether form a very valuable contribution to the department of literature to which they belong.

Mr. Whitney has also written some very excellent hymns, chiefly for ordination, installation, and dedication services, and other like occasions. Of these we select three.

"I HAVE SET WATCHMEN UPON THY WALLS."

Written for the installation of Rev. William Parsons Lunt, as colleague pastor with Rev. Peter Whitney, over the First Congregational Unitarian Church, Quincy, June 3, 1835.

ALL-SEEING One! whose presence fills

The glorious earth thy children tread,

Unseen, the sacred shrine be near,

To which our gathering steps have led.
The sacred shrine,

Great God, be near,

And, as we bend, the offering hear.

We turn to thee, in humble trust,

With prayer and praise, our Heavenly Friend,

That on this hour thy smiles may rest,

Thy choicest influence may descend.

Oh, let thy smiles,

Great God, here rest,

Thy blessing, and we shall be blessed.

Lo, where thy elder servant stood

Through changing years, there still he stands ;
To aid him in the sacred cause,

Another comes with youthful hands.
Him aid, Great God,

That sacred cause

Pursuing still by Heaven's own laws.

Oh, bless him, Father, bless him now,

With faith and truth and hope and peace;

And as his years shall onward roll,
Let not thy saving mercy cease.
As years shall roll,

Great God, increase

His ardor and his usefulness.

And when at last he binds his sheaves,
His harvest labors o'er and blest,
The golden grain, Pure One, receive,
And call the reaper to his rest.
The golden grain,

Great God, receive,

As Pastors flocks and temples leave.

"AND IN THIS PLACE WILL I GIVE PEACE."

Written for the dedication of the new church edifice of the First Congregational Unitarian Church, Watertown, Sept. 7, 1836.

O

To Thee, Great Spirit, by whose will

Το

Our labors have been blest,

Whose arm doth shield from daily ill,

Whose eye doth guard our rest,

We consecrate this chosen place

An offering to thy name;
Here seek henceforth thy needed
Thy glorious truth proclaim.

grace,

Nor only here the accepted strain
Shall rise, since not alone

At Sychar's mount, or Judah's fane,
Thou, Father, shalt be known:
But Nature is a temple now,

And all, who worship thee,

In truth must worship, while they bow
The soul, as bow the knee.

Their service such, Pure One, attend
Thy children's prayer above:
In gladness, grief, temptation, send

Thy counsel, strength, and love.
Guide thou his steps, who leads our way
To thee, and truth divine;

Let all his words thy will obey,

And all his life be thine.

As Israel came to dedicate

The latter house of old,

While holy priests were called to wait,

And clouds of incense rolled,

Thy glory sanctified the hour,

Thy Spirit warmed each heart:

Thus ever, Lord, in love and power,
Thy Spirit here impart.

"PRAY YE THEREFORE THE LORD OF THE

HARVEST."

Written for the Anniversary Exercises of the Theological School, Harvard University,

July 18, 1838.

F old, on priest and prophet came

OF

Thy Spirit's light, thy Spirit's power;

Of old the altar's kindled flame

Declared thy blessing on the hour.

Thy servants, Lord,

That power require,

That light beam ever o'er their way ;