"treasure in heaven," should be so far passive as to receive without opposition the impressions made by Divine grace, and so far active as to move forward cheerfully, and put in practice all that he knows to be good.

that it made and kept friends. In the domestic and his children fail to remember one harsh or uncircle he was the tender husband and kind father, kind word from him. Beneath the innocent mirthhim, there dwelt a deep and sincere religious feelfulness which was so pleasantly characteristic of ing, which tempered and colored all the acts of his A member of Falls Monthly Meeting for more than sixty years, he was constant and punctual in attendance, imparting a weight and dignity to its assemblages, the loss of which will be long felt. His life ended fitly and beautifully; all his kindly traits shone brightly and tenderly to the last. There were no complaints-no murmurs; only a sweet peaceful consciousness of change, from which faith took away all fear, and hope all regret.

DIED, on the 5th of Ninth month, 1867, CATHARINE H., widow of Charles H. Mattson, in her 42d year; a member of the Monthly Meeting of Friends of Philadelphia. ELIZA, 'widow of Thomas C. Barnes, in her 76th on the evening of Ninth month 5th, 1867, year; a member of the Monthly Meeting of Friends of Philadelphia.

From information received, it appears that in several places where religious conferences have been held, they have been satisfactory to those engaged in them. A letter we have recently received from a Friend in West Chester county, New York, gives an encouraging account of "Circulating Meetings," held there for religious improvement. She says, "They seem to be owned by the Great Head of the Church, whose presence has been sensibly felt to the contriting of many hearts." At one of these meetings, held at a Friend's house, "the 20th chapter of Matthew was read, and all were invited to express their feelings freely. At the close of an interesting conversation a Psalm was read, followed by silence and a religious opportunity, which had a cementing influence, bind'ng heart to heart. Both Societies of Friends came together, and our Methodist neighbors came and sat with us, and all were alike interested, and took part in the subjects that came before the meeting." Our correspondent fur-in his immediate family and in the Society of which he was a member, but in the community in which he

ther informs us, that "their young people, having become deeply interested in promoting the cause of truth, have gathered the poor children into First-day schools, or rather the rich and the poor meet together; for the Lord is the Maker of them all. It is astonishing to see the interest that is manifested by both teachers and scholars, for he that watereth shall himself be watered."

Our religious organization was intended, not to restrain, but to encourage, those who are "zealous of good works;" for "where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty." We would merely suggest to those engaged in religious conferences, that the great points to be kept in view, are, the increase of spiritual knowledge, and the fostering of a devotional spirit, avoiding debates that do not tend to edification or comfort.

DIED, at Fallsington, Pa., on First day evening, 4th of Eighth month, 1867, STEPHEN WOOLSTON, in the 86th year of his age. He was a good citizen, honored, respected and beloved; cherishing a kindly feeling for every one, and bearing malice towards none, with a disposition so cheerful and winning

on the 5th of Ninth month, 1867, in Camden, N. J., ELIZA, wife of John C. Sloan.

Meetings.

on Sixth-day morning, Ninth month 6th, 1867, at his residence, Germantown, THOMAS B. LONGSTRETH, aged 69 years; a valuable member of Green Street Monthly and Frankford Preparative on the evening of the 15th of Eighth month, 1867, at his residence, Milton, Wayne Co., Ind., of paralysis, ISAAC WHITELEY, aged 70 years; a member and elder of Milford Monthly Meeting. He bore his extreme suffering with Christian resignation. He among men, and his loss will be deeply felt not only was a man truly honest and upright in bis dealings

dwelt.

EUROPEAN CORRESPONDENCE.

No. III.

LAUSANNE, August 2. Here I sit in the very garden where Gibbon finished writing his great history. It is the court of the house, which is built round three sides of it; and it looks over a garden to which twenty-five steps descend from it, and which is beautifully laid out with winding paths and flowering trees, and a lovely fountain that plays all the time. Under this court run the basement rooms of the house where the servants and possibly the landlord's family live, whose rooms must be twenty feet high; and they look out upon the garden beyond, which slopes down green fields (with some pretty looking houses) to the lake; and then comes the lake and a beautiful range of mountains, visible even in the mist of this afternoon, above which, in clear weather, tower the snow peaks, now entirely in

visible.

In the various lights there must be no end of beauty here. The Hotel Gibbon is five stories high, counting the basement, which is not seen on the front. It opens on one of the broadest streets or squares of Lausanne, which is a beautiful city, having a variety of beauty greater than I ever saw before; and splendid hotels, where people can live permanently for six francs a day; and transient visitors pay a little or much more, according to what they call for. My pretty room, opening into the court, is two francs a day, and I eat a' lacerte. The court is an upper garden, bordered with splendid flowers and flowering trees; and in the middle are six large spreading chestnut trees, whose branches meet and make a perfect canopy, under which straw colored but iron chairs and settees, with tables, more or less large, and of various shapes, give opportunity to individuals or parties to have a meal in full view of the lake and mountains. If I were rich, I would come and pass a month here every summer. English is spoken by some of the waiters, and the house is always full of American and English people. I think the route from Paris to Lausanne, through the frontier town of Pontarlier and by Neufchatel, is perfectly beautiful, (at least from Pontarlier,) but you must have the right-hand side of the car. You look over into vallies where are many little villages. It was the first scenery which satisfied me in Europe, for France is merely pretty from Brest to Paris, and from Paris to Pontarlier.

of the city, crowned by the cathedral, another by the castle.

But at Geneva we took a diligence passage for Chamouny-and such a three days of magnificence as we had. We all four took the seat up high just behind the driver, ascending by a ladder of fourteen or twenty steps; and then we seemed to be riding on the wind. We went through a beautiful country of well-defined hills, which were on either hand, and sometimes approached and walled us in. At St. Martin's the snow mountains began to loom up, and the mists and mountain peaks coquetted with each other in the most indescribable way. But the mists finally conquered, and when we rode into Chamouny, which lies between two prodigious mountain walls, wooded to the very top, Mont Blanc had quite hidden his snowy front, as well as the snow-stretched peaks about him. But still the green mountains were grand, with their long sweeps of wood and bright green valleys in alternation, and here and there a mountain torrent, which was now no longer a torrent, but a narrow brook merely. The river Arvé runs through the valley with a rush, that we hear all the time. It is greenish white, with sulphur. The Hotel du Nord has clean, neat, plain rooms, with the prospect of the snow mountains on two sides, and there are balconies at the ends of the halls, for those whose rooms look toward the village. It has the same landlord as the Hotel of the Alps, where we went to excellent meals.

There are eight or ten beautiful excursions to be made from Chamouny village, and five or six extraordinary ones, such as ascending Mt. Blanc. I should have been glad to have had a week or more in the valley, to take the most of these; but not the dangerous ones. But the decree was one day for Chamouny, and so I took one foot excursion, without a guide, to the sources of the Arvè, which comes out of the Mer de Glace. I took this alone, as the rest were tired with their ride of the day before. That morning I had watched, at sunrise, Mt. Blane and his snowy brethren roll off the mis s and come out in their glory, until 10 o'clock, when I went to break fast, and then started off up the valley, which is so winding that, although I started with my back to Mt. Blanc, he soon came round on my left hand, and I saw the glacier that sweeps down from a mountain that rises farther east, and nearer the village. The shadows and outlines of the mountains on both To hear of Switzerland and to see it are two sides changed continually as I walked. Somevery different things. I have now been over times I sat down on convenient rocks, and Lake Lemar twice. The sail is very beautiful sketched the outlines of the mountains, and I by Fernay. There is on one island (I believe) | only wished that I had some moist water colors a most lovely villa owned by Prince Napoleon. with me, and I should have become a painter But I was disappointed in Geneva. It cannot on the spot. I was two hours walking up the compare in picturesqueness with Lausanne, valley to the sources of the Arveiron, and whose location is on hills-one hill, in the heart passed two little villages-Les Piès and Les

very present God, the Spirit of Spirits, who awakened within mine new thoughts of the sublimity of that human Spirit I shared. I felt lifted above all the personalities, as we call them, which divide souls from each other, into those ideas which unite man with each other, as well as with God, and it seemed to me that I understood, still more clearly than ever, that union with Christ was the true human destiny; for Christ was simply the human spirit freed from all jealousies and unkindnesses, and in full vision and enjoyment of the Creative Spirit, which Jesus taught us to name Father; because that word alone of human words suggests the true relation of the Infinite divine with the finite human.

In the morning, when I had been watching. for Mt. Blanc, before it came out from the mists, it seemed an emblem of some great leading principle, which one was intending one's mind to grasp, but which one could not quite grasp, because of exhalations from below, which

Bois-out of which children came to offer me flowers and crystals for a consideration. I went through one little grove, and then through some sandy winding road, till I came to a little chalet in full sight of the two arches under the Mer de Glace, out of which flow two streams of the Arvéiron; and at right angles there was another opening into the mountain, which came round the other side of the Mer de Glace. I sat down in the shadow of the chalet to rest from the sun, and found it was just one o'clock. A gentleman, whom I knew to speak English from his looks, came upon a male with a guide, having been over the Mer de Glace. I spoke to him, and he told me the hole in the mountain side was the entrance to a crystal grotto of ice, forming part of the Mer de Glace. I told him I was disappointed in the glaciers they looked like a bed of dirty snow. He said nevertheless they were solid ice, and I should realize it if I went into the grotto-which it was very interesting to do-and there was a man there who lighted you through with a can-interfered One gets hold first of one joint and dle for half a franc; so I pushed my way over the little planks that were put between the rocks, and the man soon espied me, and came to help me with his hand. I went in with him, having first been armed by him with an umbrella, and he conducted me through arches of, ice, bringing me out again at the same point. He had stuck lighted candles in a great many places, and, by means of them, I saw that the walls of the arches were a yard thick, and transparent. It certainly did make me realize that glaciers were ice, not snow, and immense masses. These arches were formed, doubtless, by rushing torrents, that, at some former time, went to make up the Arveiron, and which had never melted nor could melt. I would not but have seen this grotto.

I then returned to the chalet, which was a very nice shop, and sat down to look through a stereoscopic box at a multitude of mountain views, and so passed an hour; then buying two of them, I started on my way home, and strolled along for two hours and a half, with Mt. Blanc before me, and apparently very Dear, though actually ten miles distant. The walk was even more splendid than it had been in the morning, as the sun had turned and poured its full blaze on the white and green mountains which in the morning had been more in shadow. A shepherd joined me with a flock, apparently going up into the highlands. Some travellers passed on mules, who had been over the Fleqére, and some walkers, gentlemen and ladies, with their Alpine stock, who had been over the Mer de Glace, and were still strong enough to leave me far behind, as they strode toward the village hotels. Most of the time, however, I was alone, and the grand mountains seemed to me, indeed, the very words of the

then of another, and loses them again; and it is of no use to strain nature's powers in an agony of will; she can only wait and give time to the earthly hindrances to exhaust themselves, and then the truth is seen close at hand and quite naturally, and we know it was always thus. The analogy fails in this point,-that our visual power is a fixed thing, and our own will does not increase it, however ardent may be our desire to see. But our power of spiritual communion is not fixed, but more or less, according to the purity and earnestness of our love; and it does in a degree depend on our own intentness and desire, whether the thought of God becomes ours. And yet we must not be too wilful. God desires to come to us as much as we can desire to go to Him. Unless we realize this, our desire may be intemperate, and fail of the end. We must "muse till the fire burns," as David happily phrases it-the fires of intelligence and of love, which must unite to enlighten and warm our will, or it will not be the Power which is in harmony with God's Power.

After dining, I went out again on the balconies of Hotel du Nord, and saw the light of the setting sun light up Mt. Blanc and his great brethren, and fill with rainbow colors the light clouds which floated about. At last the sun set, and all became grey, except Mt. Blanc itself, which still showed itself white; and the next morning the sunrise found it without a mist. We left at 9 o'clock, and as I sat on the back seat of the little carriage that carried us to St. Martin's, I saw the glorious group towering over the other mountains all the way for several hours. At St. Martin's we mounted the diligence, and returned to Geneva-our whole expedition being a perfect success; and I say

EXTRACTS FROM AN EXCURSION ON THE WEST- alleviated. There were pleasant voices and

CHESTER AND PHILADEEPHIA RAILROAD.

BY INKEE PENN.

Concluded from page 430.)

laughter under the trees, there were jokes and stories intermingled with the clink of the billiard balls, there was the sound of the piano in the parlor, and glimpses of ladies and attendants about the grounds and upon the portico. In the very worst cases that have come here, po shackles, handcuffs, straight jackets, or punishments have been applied. Kindness, cheerfulness, firmness, moral suasion, and the watchfulness of trained and tried attendants have been here found to be all that was necessary in the case of those who were cured, as well as of those who can only be pronounced better. When we visited it, the entire place in its privacy, its cheerful quietude, and its simple pleasure, more resembled a country boarding-house than an hospital for mental disease. The interest de

rather to the gratification of curiosity and the enlargement of sympathies than to any posi tively pleasurable emotion. But as far as satisfaction is derived from inspections of this character, we derived it from our visits to Clifton Hall and the asylum for idiots at Media.

Almost immediately after leaving Media the cars pass over Ridley Creek bridge, the highest on the route being 110 feet in a perpendicular line from the level of the creek to the iron rails. The bridge is 600 feet long, and has lately been rebuilt, as has also every one on the road, and are quite as safe as any other portions of the road. A hundred yards or more beyond Ridley Creek bridge, from which is to be obtained a fine view of the western part of Media, the cars enter a beautiful stretch of woodland.

Another point of equal but of more private interest is the private hospital of Clifton Hall, for the treatment of various classes of mental disease. It is charmingly situated at Clifton, about five miles from Media, and about six miles to the west of Philadelphia. The grounds open upon the turnpike, but the disposition of the trees and shrubbery is so admirable as to surround the house with a cheerful seclusion. The corner-stone was, I believe, laid in 1858, and the prestige of years has been bestowed by patronage from all parts of the United States. There is a pond with boats for rowing, and lit tle islands to row around. Its high brick walls and double-barred gates gives the place the as-rived from such visits as these is due indeed pect of a prison. Indeed, the fence, a simple wooden one, is almost hidden from view by the abundant shrubbery. A few large trees near the house give sufficient shade for out of-door lounging or reading, without producing that gloom which invariably results from heavy masses of permanent shadow. Woods on the western side are threaded by pleasant pathways, and the high nature of the ground affords beautiful views of the Delaware and the city. The charms of the surrounding country of Media and Clifton are proverbial. There is a stream in every valley, and a pleasant walk along every stream. The theory upon which the institution was built is, I believe, to treat those who are suffering from mental disease with as near an approach as is possible to the treatment of the perfectly sane. Hence all restraint, In passing through the woods, sudden except that which is absolutely necessary for the gleams of sunshine came flitting in at the health and safety of the patient, is done away windows, followed in rapid succession by swiftwith, and the watchfulness of attendants and ly-moving shadows, whose reflected variations the ubiquity of the proprietor and physician, of light and shade chased each other along the Dr. Given, are substituted for the chain and ornamental roof of the car, as silently as the straight jacket system. To promote cheerful-hurrying phantoms of dreamland that glide ness is the main idea. The situation of the house and the disposition of the rooms are founded on this theory. Vegetables are grown upon the grounds. The food, from all that I can learn, is plain and abundant; good feeding, and not starvation, being considered the main element of health. In short, every observation my friend and myself made induced us to believe that as near an approach was made to one's home here as is practicable in institutions of This important manufacturing village is fif this nature. The frequency of visits from the teen miles from Philadelphia. Here are two friends and relatives of the patients is not cotton and woolen mills-one 40 by 80 feet, limited to certain days and certain hours, in- and three stories high; the other 50 by 170 deed, is not limited at all, excepting in cases feet, and five stories high. The number of where the health of the patient necessitates a hands in these two establishment, when "runlimit. In our tour throughout Clifton Hall ning full," is 225. These mills contain 270 and its surrounding grounds, much of the dis- looms, and in addition to the other material tress which is always felt in beholding cases manufactured, are also used in part for the dyeof mental disease, curable or incurable, was ling of yarns and the finishing of gloves. This

through the labyrinths of the brain and are gone in an instant. Panorama like they flashed upon us, to delight the eye and charm the imagination, but in their alternations of sunshine and shade were as brief and as transitory as that wonderful mozaic work-human life. A little over two miles from Media, and we are at

Glen Riddle.