Once it was not so. There was a time when I gaily viewed the dull clouds of a rainy day, and could hear the voice of rejoicing in the roarings of the wintry storm, when sorrow was an unmeaning word, and in things which now appear sacred my thoughtless mind could see the ludicrous. These thoughts have been suggested by the recollection of a poor old couple, to whom in my careless girlhood I gave the name of "the first bells." And now, I doubt not, you are wondering what strange association of ideas could have led me to fasten this appellation upon a poor old man and woman. My answer must be the narration of a few facts. When I was young, we all worshipped in the great meeting-house, which now stands so vacant and forlorn upon the brow of Church Hill. It is never used but upon town-meeting days--for those who once went up to the house of God in company, now worship in three separate buildings. There is discord between them--that worst of all hatred, the animosity which arises from difference of religious opinions. I am sorry for it; not that I regret that they cannot all think alike, but that they cannot "agree to differ." Because the heads are not in unison, it needeth not that the hearts should be estranged; and a difference of faith may be expressed in kindly words. I have my friends among them all, and they are not the less dear to me, because upon some doctrinal points our opinions cannot be the same. A creed which I do not now believe is hallowed by recollections of the Sabbath worship, the evening meetings, the religious feelings--in short, of the faith, hope, and trust of my earlier days. I remember now how still and beautiful our Sunday mornings used to seem, after the toil and play of the busy week. I would take my catechism in my hand, and go and sit upon a large flat stone, under the shade of the chestnut tree; and, looking abroad, would wonder if there was a thing which did not feel that it was the Sabbath. The sun was as bright and warm as upon other days, but its light seemed to fall more softly upon the fields, woods and hills; and though the birds sung as loudly and joyfully as ever, I thought their sweet voices united in a more sacred strain. I heard a Sabbath tone in the waving of the boughs above me, and the hum of the bees around me, and even the bleating of the lambs and the lowing of the kine seemed pitched upon some softer key. Thus it is that the heart fashions the mantle with which it is wont to enrobe all nature, and gives to its never silent voices a tone of joy, or sorrow, or holy peace.