We may have had elsewhere as faithful citizens; as industrious journalists; as ripe scholars, and poets, it may be, equally gifted and inspired, but where have we had another who has combined in his own person all these? In him a rare combination of extraordinary qualities was united; strength and gentleness, elevation of thought and childlike simplicity, genius, common-sense, and practical wisdom. Where there were controverted questions, whether men agreed with him or not, they never for an instant doubted his nobleness of purpose.—_Rev. R. C. Waterston._ To the Fringed Gentian. Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven’s own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night,— Thou comest not when violets lean O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen, Or columbines, in purple drest, Nod o’er the ground-bird’s hidden nest. Thou waitest late, and com’st alone, When woods are bare, and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend The aged year is near its end. Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye Look through its fringes to the sky, Blue, blue, as if that sky let fall A flower from its cerulean wall. I would that thus, when I shall see The hour of death draw near to me, Hope, blossoming within my heart, May look to heaven as I depart. Extract from Bryant’s Translation of the Iliad. Book I. (620-774.)