Longest is the life that contains the largest amount of time-effacing enjoyment of work that is a steady delight. Such a life may really comprise an eternity upon earth. These words of John Muir I noted down after one of our last conversations. To few men was it given to realize so completely the element of eternity of time-efi'acing enjoyment in work as it was to John Muir. The secret of it all was in his soul, the soul of a child, of a poet, and of a strong man, all blended into one. Only such a one would have mounted the top of a pine tree in a gale — swept forest in order to enjoy the better the passionate music of the storm, and then tell how we all travel the milky way together, trees and men, but it never occurred to me until this storm-day, he wrote, that trees are travelers in the ordinary sense. They make many journeys, not exten sive ones it is true; but our own little journeys, away and back again, are only little more than tree-wavings many of them not so much. But the play of his rich imagination did not pause with the adventure in the tree-top.