The Sword and the trowel . hechurch and Sessions House; but at the same time, there were dottedabout, here and there, old houses, curious in their construction, orinteresting as landmarks in our social history. The transformationwhich has taken place in regard to buildings is so wonderful, that thedistrict would hardly be recognized by persons who remember it thirtyyears ago. The Thieves Houses, over the Fleet river, are no longer tobe seen ; and the dangerous streets are now as safe as any leadingthoroughfare. But while in outward appearance the place has so strik-ingly changed, and in some r
The Sword and the trowel . hechurch and Sessions House; but at the same time, there were dottedabout, here and there, old houses, curious in their construction, orinteresting as landmarks in our social history. The transformationwhich has taken place in regard to buildings is so wonderful, that thedistrict would hardly be recognized by persons who remember it thirtyyears ago. The Thieves Houses, over the Fleet river, are no longer tobe seen ; and the dangerous streets are now as safe as any leadingthoroughfare. But while in outward appearance the place has so strik-ingly changed, and in some respects changed for the better, we mustnot be deceived by mere appearances. The people are still there inoverwhelming numbers, the children especially mustering in such force,that nearly a dozen large buildings of the School Board are to be seenwithin half-a-mile of Mr. Grooms head-quarters. Despite improve-ments, there is as great a work as ever to be done ; and those who arewilling to do it should be encouraged. G. H. 513 %$um in ifte WLooo*. AUTUMN begins to lay its hand upon all things. The beech trees,which tower aloft like clustered columns in the heart of the wood,bear up bravely against the cold night winds. The bracken, and theferns, and the soft green moss will not yet believe that summer has leftthem. But for all that, the vigour of the year is past, and the sabbathseason of the woods has come—a sabbath upon which man makes sadinroads with his murderous gun. Now is a fine season for the solitaryglades. Every falling leaf is a sermon. Far from the citys dust anddin we wander till our feet are arrested by the tiny tarn which givesdrink to bird and beast; and by its brink we sit us down and muse upona fading world, and the generations of its life which rise like the wavesof the sea only to die upon the shore. Yet life abides, and death cannotdrive it from the throne. The leaves fall, but the forest lives on : menperish, but the race survives. Better still, the Lor
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Keywords: ., bookauthorspurgeonchcharle, bookcentury1800, booksubjectbaptists
