river before us, which, supplied by unseen springs, had poured forth itself into that glorious creek, and in that united itself with the world's ocean! The contrast was striking; the resemblance between that human life, and the scene before me was striking also; and the peace and beauty of the night, and that pure moonlight, were like the blessing of Heaven upon them both.
Miss Dix has during her twelve years' labour, as the good angel of the prisoner and the lunatic, travelled through most of the States of the Union;—has forced her way into regions and places which had hitherto been hidden from a gleam of light, and has conveyed the message of light and hope to those who sate in darkness; she has, through her excellent memorials to the States' Governments, and her influence with private individuals, been the means of the erection of thirteen hospitals for the insane, and of an improved mode of treatment for these unfortunates, as well as of prisoners generally, particularly in the prisons of the Southern States.
She is one of the most beautiful proofs of that which a woman, without any other aid than her own free-will and character, without any other power than that of her purpose, and its uprightness, and her ability to bring these forward, can effect in society.
I admire her—admire in particular her courage and her perseverance. In other respects we hardly sympathise; but I love the place she occupies in humanity—love her figure sitting in the recess of the window in the Capitol, where amid the fiery feuds, she silently spins her web for the asylums of the unfortunate, a quiet centre for the threads of Christian love, which she draws across and across the ceaseless contests, undisturbed by them,—a divine spinner is she for the house of God. Should I not kiss her hand? I did; and do it again in spirit, with thanks for that which she is, and that which she does.
I will tell you when we meet some extraordinary
