ThmThings that I love
There is much in this beautiful world to love. It could not be otherwise when its great maker God is himself all love. it is He that gives us love and lends us objects to love; and it is only when our hearts become so much attached to the gift as forget the giver that He in kindness makes that object become to us a source of trial, that he may draw back our wandering hearts to himself. So kind is this God of ours that almost as man in number as the sands upon the sea-shore are the objects he has given us to love, and we are so constituted that whilst there are some things which seem to be general objects of love there are others that seem not to be made for all but more particularly for individuals, according to the constitution of the nature, so that what would be loved by one would not by another, and vice-versa. And it is well that this is so for there is a peculiar satisfaction in the thought that there is iether [sic] in this outer world as in the world of thought something far as to love which we may as it were call our own.
Every one loves his native country. We love our own beautiful America. Poets may sing to us of Italy's fairy clime, or of sunny France the land of vineyard and of song but far more lovely to us are Columbia's pine clad hills, and dearer, much dearer "the blasts sound our mountains which save," than all the soft breeses [sic] that blow over the land of Pape-dom.
Every one loves his home and home friends. The mansions may be more stately, and the apartments more elegantly furnished, but in all this wide world there is not a spot to as like home. Other persons may be wiser than our friends, their names may stand higher in the catalogue of worldly honor, but more precious to us is the possession of one loving though humble heart than the loudest breath of fame.
But I will talk no more of these for I wish to tell of some of the particular things that I love, and see if any of you love anything like them, for perhaps there may be found some connecting link that shall bind our hearts more closely together.
I love the rushing mighty wind as it sweeps over the earth with resistless force, uprooting trees, and overturning high buildings, for it is then I most feel my own weakness & inability to face the winds of adversity unless my feet be firmly planted upon the Rock of Ages.
I love the times when "the wind its revels keep." Like a mad cap boy regardless of everything but its own fun it attacks alike the dignified judge or the lawless wag. Carrying away the hat of the one, it keeps him chasing after it until he for once loses his sense of propriety, and thinks only of his hat; while it plays such mad pranks about the other that he is obliged to own he has found his equal. I love at such a time to stand in some secure place and watch its witcheries and from it I can draw a lesson too. "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might."
I would not forget the gentle summer breezes that sigh through the green leaves, stooping to kiss the flowers, and fanning the cheek of the maiden. They whisper to me of my far-away home, and I fancy bring me messages from the loved ones there.
I love the wind too as it plays so mournfully through the lattice work in from of the seminary, making such music as we sometimes hear from the Elian lyre. I love it although it brings a feeling of sadness to my soul for it seems to me to be singing the requiem of her who was so long the presiding genius here, and whose spirit we still hope hovers near us. And it seems too to be lifting up its voice to each one of us saying "Go and do thou likewise."
I love to stand by some cataract and see the water as it comes dashing and roaring over the rocks foaming after a little flowing on calmly over its bed. It is so like life. The world in its mad strife goes rushing and tumbling over the rocks and shoals of time, but after a little this scene of turmoil is ended and the River of Life flows calmly into the great Sea of Eternity.
I love to watch the clouds there is such a strange beauty about them, and they are emblematical of so many things. Those light fleecy clouds which we see flying through the heavens just after a shower seem to me like messengers sent to cary the tidings. And it has always seemed to me that, had words shape[,] God's words would be the shape of some clouds.
I used to love to sit by my window in the winter mornings, and watch the sun as it rose lowly from behind the distant mountains; and when there were light fleecy clouds[,] its rays darting through them made sights so beautiful, that imagination fancied the whole to be some fairy land with its airy castles and enchanted groves. And as for as a few moments the brilliancy of the scene increased, I have often been reminded of the discription given in Rev. of the new Jerusalem.
Many other things are there that I love but I will not tire you by telling them. There is only one more that I would mention, and now I am sure that I shall strike a sympathetic chord in the hearts of many of you. It is a name - a name "That is above every name["] - Jesus.
Margaret McA. Hill.
April 2d /53