ad no sympathy with his political
and religious views.

Scattered all over his editorials, like gems, are to be found beautiful
images, sweet touches of heartfelt pathos,--thoughts which the reader
pauses over with surprise and delight. We subjoin a few specimens, taken
almost at random from the book before us:--

"A thunder-storm,--what can match it for eloquence and poetry? That rush
from heaven of the big drops, in what multitude and succession, and how
they sound as they strike! How they play on the old home roof and the
thick tree-tops! What music to go to sleep by, to the tired boy, as he
lies under the naked roof! And the great, low bass thunder, as it rolls
off over the hills, and settles down behind them to the very centre, and
you can feel the old earth jar under your feet!"

"There was no oratory in the speech of the _Learned Blacksmith_, in the
ordinary sense of that word, no grace of elocution, but mighty thoughts
radiating off from his heated mind, like sparks from the glowing steel of
his own anvil."

"The hard hands of Irish labor, with nothing in them,--they ring like
slabs of marble together, in response to the wild appeals of O'Connell,
and the British stand conquered before them, with shouldered arms.
Ireland is on her feet, with nothing in her hands, impregnable,
unassailable, in utter defencelessness,--the first time that ever a
nation sprung to its feet unarmed. The veterans of England behold them,
and forbear to fire. They see no mark. It will not do to fire upon men;
it will do only to fire upon soldiers. They are the proper mark of the
murderous gun, but men cannot be shot."

"It is coming to that (abolition of war) the world over; and when it does
come to it, oh what a long breath of relief the tired world will draw, as
it stretches itself for the first time out upon earth's greensward, and
learns the meaning of repose and peaceful sleep!"

"He who vests his labor in the faithful ground is dealing directly with
God; human fraud or weakness do not intervene between him and his
requital. No mechanic has a set of customers so trustworthy as God and
the elements. No savings bank is so sure as the old earth."

"Literature is the luxury of words. It originates nothing, it does
nothing. It talks hard words about the labor of others, and is reckoned
more meritorious for it than genius and labor for doing what learning can
only descant upon. It trades on the capital of unlettered m