I have seen many wooden preachers,--never one like this.
How much more striking would be the calendar counted on the rings of one of those awful trees which were standing when Christ was on earth, and where that brief mortal life is chronicled with the stolid apathy of vegetable being, which remembers all human history as a thing of yesterday in its own dateless existence! I have something more to say about elms.

A relative tells me there is one of great glory in Andover, near Bradford.

I have some recollections of the former place, pleasant and other.

[I wonder if the old Seminary clock strikes as slowly as it used to.

My room-mate thought, when he first came, it was the bell tolling deaths, and people's ages, as they do in the country.