MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
U 
had been measured, its distance from market 
cm fii'ly considered ; its river had been guag- 
ed and Us whole capacity determined with 
mathematical precision. They called upon 
their artizans for plans, specifications and es- I 
timates for all that pertained to vast manu¬ 
facturing establishments with their endless 
complication and details. The d'-cree was 
sent forth that the city should be built, and 
it was as effectual as if it had been the man¬ 
date of the autocrat of the Itussias. Indeed 
I doubt if his m jesty could tind within his 
dominions the skill and science necessary to 
produce the riqoired result within the speci¬ 
fied p' riod. A few yens have rolled away 
and those who will look again for the fenced 
fields and the idle river, will find the city of 
Lawrence with its population of thousands, 
its busy haunts < f industry, and the subdued 
torrent toiling in man’s service. 
In strange contrast with these occupations, 
the traveler through New England will find 
the inhabitants of a part of its territory en¬ 
gaged in an occupation entirely different, but 
carried on to the same successful result, by 
virtue of the same principle, viz: a public 
sentiment attaching to it a high value, and 
honoring those who distinguish themselves 
in its pursuit. If any one present.has ever 
had occa ion to visit New Bedford or Nan¬ 
tucket, he has approached the sea coast thro’ 
a level, sterile, u 'promising region, but he 
has been astonished with the costly residen¬ 
ces of the towns, evincing wealth and pros¬ 
perity. lie was bewildered by the conversa¬ 
tion of men. They talk familiarly of the 
north west coast, the China seas, the passage 
round the Capes, and the anchorage at the 
Sandwich Islands. The probable haunts of 
the whale, the qualities of vessels and men, 
are household topics, and the curiosities of 
the marine world are household ornaments. 
The recent return from the three years’ voy¬ 
age round the world and the contemplated 
departure to its remote bounds, are calmly 
discussed. The boldness, skill, and success 
of the whalemen of the East, drew from 
Burke, prior to our Revolution, his splendid 
eulogium upon American enterprise. 
Why is it that this lucrative trade is almost 
confined to a limited spot? The govern¬ 
ments of Eogland and France have endeav¬ 
ored to foster it within their dominions, by 
the most lib-ral bounties, but they never yet 
have been able to compete with those hardy 
sailors. Yet their position has no marked 
advantag s, no superior harbors, no abnnd 
ance of materials to build, or of stores to 
furnish vessels. The efforts to establish these 
pursui's on the Hudson, where the harbors 
are more secure and the expenses of outfit 
are less, and no skill or care was wanting in 
the preparation, were attended with but par¬ 
tial success, simply because they lacked the 
Stimulus of public interest. The whalemen 
of N mtucket, when exposed to the dangers 
of the sea ten thousand miles from home, ei¬ 
ther combatting with its howling storms,or 
seeking in the frail boat to encounter the 
monsters of the deep, is nerved by the con¬ 
viction that hisemrage, his fortitude,and his 
daring will secure for him the applause of 
his world at home. 
If we wero to examine in detail the pur¬ 
suits of each section of our Union, we should 
find them modified or controlled by the same 
influence, or if we pass beyond the pale of 
civilization, we should see the painted war¬ 
rior of the west stimulated by popular ap¬ 
plause to deeds of daring, in his combats 
with wild beasts, or his still wilder and more 
savage opponent of some rival tribe. 
I might, if the time permitted, multiply 
the evidences of the truth of the proposition, 
that the condition of communities depends 
upon the public sentiment that actuates 
them. Let it not be supposed that this pro¬ 
position profanely questions influences high¬ 
er than those of mortal man. It is in pur¬ 
suance of the designs of that Providence 
which has fixed the conditions upon which 
we enjoy success. There was true religion 
as well as wisdom in the remaik of the 
Priest, who, when called upon in a period of 
scarcity to pray from field to field in pursu¬ 
ance of the custom of the country—observed 
one that bore evidences of neglect, passed 
over it with the remaik that it was useless 
to pray where the owner would not manure. 
General prosperity or that of classos is the 
result wrought out by the efforts of the peo¬ 
ple, directed by an intelligent public senti¬ 
ment. Yet we all influence this sentiment, 
and the working of each individual mind 
constitutes a part of its voluire. It has fre- 
qu oitiy been changed by one man’s < fforts 
It is constantly influenced by those who 
boldly and manfully address theimelves to 
the duty of advocating truth or combatting 
errors. Engaged in designs of usefulness or 
benevolence, we may all, by the exercise of 
energy and perseverance, wield it as an in¬ 
strument to effect our ends. Would y> u 
render your beautiful hills and valleys still 
more attractive and productive, clothing them 
with a richer verdure and ornamenting them 
with tasteful abodes and sylvan adornments 
of shrubs and trees, animate your agricul- 
turist oy holding his manly and noble pur¬ 
suit in proper estimation. 
Would you become a wealthy commnnity 
and do you desire to introduce among you 
the products of mechanical skill ? Amuse 
the public interest and put forth the efforts, 
and the living streams of your hills,converted 
to means of service, will, in the morning leap 
forth to their labors, and in the evening glide 
on to their rest. Does a morel >Uy ambition 
influence you? Would you diffuse around 
you the blessings of education ? Would you 
fill the mind of man with con tant objects of 
thought and reflection ; would you givu a new 
interest to everything around him (for when 
you educate a man, you open the eyes ol the 
blind) bv calling his attention to all the won¬ 
ders and beauties of the vegetable world, and 
teaching to investigate and ponder over na¬ 
ture’s endless variety and strange processes; 
or arouse bis faculties to the utmost stretch 
of their poweis by calling upon him to incus 
ure the orbits of other worlds; to compute 
their distances and to conceive their sizes; or 
startle him by pointing out the traces in your 
hills and mountains enclosed within the stra¬ 
ta of enduring rocks as within the leaves of a 
mighty record, showing the former convul¬ 
sions of our earth ; that it has been moulten 
with raging fires, swept with great floods and 
has been the abode of monsters more vast 
than the most morbid imagination had con¬ 
ceived ? Would you store his mind with all 
these wonders, elevate his conceptions, endow 
him with wealth not subject to fickle fortune’s 
changes, give to learning its appropriate hon¬ 
or. Let the value of education and intelli¬ 
gence be properly estimated and we shall not 
regard them merely as means by which wc 
shall be rendered successful as farmers, me¬ 
chanics or professional men ; but while they 
will render these pursuits successful, they 
will lead us to regard them as means, not 
ends; as paths which we tread in compliance 
with the divine fiat which makes the journey 
of life one of labor, but which we also may 
nuke a road to self-improvement and public 
usefulness. 
If we reflect upon the prospects of our own 
great State, we shall see that the present is 
an era in the history of its progress; a point 
of time from which we shall have to contend 
with intelligent zeal for the preservation of 
present advantages, and for the promotion of 
its great interests. 
Placed at a point where an opening thro’ 
the lofty range of mountains which divides I tion. 
our country from the Gulf of Mexico to the 
northern lakes into two great sections, gives 
us the koy to tho commerce of a vast and 
fertile region watered by tho Mississippi 
and its confluents, we are in the possession 
of tho most important avenue of trade to 
be found upon tho faco of tho Globo. Tho 
route of the Red Sea, and tho Valley of the 
Nile, which the eagle oyo of Alexander the 
Great, selected as controlling the scat of 
empire; which tho grasping ambition of Na¬ 
poleon coveted, and which now constitutes 
a feverish subject for European Diplomacy, 
is less important than tho passage which the 
Hudson has worn through tho Alleganian 
ridge. To secure tho full benefits of our 
position we must pursue a wise, judicious 
and enlightened policy which will bring our 
system of internal improvements to suc¬ 
cessful completion, and make our Canals 
the cheapest and most convenient avenues 
to tho markets of tho Atlantic coast of the 
maritime world. By the exercise of a spirit 
of enterprise tempered by judicious econo¬ 
my, wo can defeat all efforts to divert from 
our State the importantand enriching steam 
of domestic commerce. The farmers of New 
York have to contend with domestic as well 
as foreign competition. Tho settlement of 
our State and tho construction of our ca¬ 
nals, which gave us avenues to market, so 
much affected the Agriculture of tho Eas¬ 
tern States that they were compelled to be¬ 
come manufacturing communities. The 
tide of emigration which has filled the west 
with laboring inhabitants, in turn now sub¬ 
jects us to the competition of fresh and fer¬ 
tile soils. Our manufactories but recently 
established, have to contend with tho supe¬ 
rior experience and capital of N. England. 
If these views are correct, then the condi¬ 
tion of these two great industrial pursuits, 
call for tho exertion of all their energies 
and skill. The agriculturist must if possi¬ 
ble. incroaso his productions by increased 
skill, care and attention ; and the manufac¬ 
turer sustain his interests by every effort of 
ingenuity and enterprise; but above all, 
they must bo stimulated, encouraged and 
applauded by a public sentiment which 
shall spring from a just appreciation of their 
condition and value. If this is dono we 
shall place our State on that firm footing of 
prosperity which can only bo obtained by 
tho stern and successful strugglo with vig¬ 
orous competition, giving nerve and muscle 
and compact strength 
If we take a view of a still narrower field 
of duty and consider the communities to 
which we are more immediately attached, 
wo shall find a wholesomo public sentiment 
equally powerful, and our responsibility to 
create and influence it, still more direct.— 
If its subjects are on a smaller scalo, they 
are more varied and not less interesting.— 
To diffuse around us happiness and virtuo 
and prosperity ; to desire to see tho places 
of our abodo sanctified by tho temples of 
our religion, adorned by institutions of 
learning, and rendered prosperous by the 
successful pursuits of life, will ever bo the 
impulse of the enlarged anil generous mind. 
To render our nation great, it must 
broatho forth a spirit of patriotism, of vir 
tue and intelligence. To render our State 
one of tho most honored members of our 
great confederacy, if must honor its indus¬ 
trial pursuits and stimulate our artizans and 
vantages may be, thoy alone will not sustain 
us against foreign or domestic competition, 
hut reliance must bo placed only upon tho 
intelligence and industry of tho cultivators 
of the soil; and, above all, that success in 
this pursuit, as in all others, depends in a 
great degree upon tho estimation in which 
this most noblo and important occupation 
is held by themselves and the community at 
large. It is this last consideration that has 
induced tho officers and members of this 
Society to devote themselves to its concerns 
and to the toil incident to such exhibitions 
as those wo see around us. They feel that 
it has been true at all times, in all condi¬ 
tions of society, that those pursuits are suc¬ 
cessfully prosecuted which are held in high 
esteem by society at large. It is to mani¬ 
fest this regard that tho Executive of our 
State, its public officers and other distin¬ 
guished men from all parts of our country 
have attended on this occasion. It is this 
consideration that has induced mo to ap¬ 
pear before you to-day, conscious of my ina¬ 
bility to instruct this audience on the pro¬ 
cesses of farming, although I am somewhat 
engaged in its concerns, to make the re¬ 
marks I havo submitted to you. Thoy may 
bo unsound and valueless, but they are of¬ 
fered as a tribute to the importance, tho 
dignity and valuo of tho farmer’s occupa- 
SI Cuiiptranct |tori]. 
THE LOST FOUND AND RESTORED. 
A SKETCH FROM LIFE. 
iabbatj] Jleabings. 
husbandmen by a just applause of that spirit 
which works out prosperity by honest toil 
and manly energy. Do wo wish to make 
tho town of our abodes distinguished for 
morality, intelligence and beauty, we must 
be the liberal supporter and earnest advo 
cates of thoso institutions which should 
adorn every city and village throughout tho 
land; whoso influence shall vivify and int 
prove every department of local or national 
affairs. If, actuated by an honorable ambi¬ 
tion, we seok a useful position in society 
we will in all respects endeavor to create on 
all subjects, a sound public sentiment, and 
we shall find tho effort like tho quality of 
mercy, “ twice blessed.’’ 
In this address I have given a brief sketch 
of the early periods of farming in this coun 
try and of some of tho business and social 
peculiarities which resulted from its condi¬ 
tion and tho want of extensive markets for 
its productions; and I havo endeavored to 
show tho changes in the principles of agri¬ 
cultural management which our present fa¬ 
cilities for disposing of the fruits of our la¬ 
bor havo rendered necessary; that our new 
relationships to the commerce of tho world, 
have made an enlarged dogreo of intelli¬ 
gence on tho part of our farmers, respect¬ 
ing commercial principles, essential to tho 
successful conduct of their business; that 
however great our natural or acquired ad- 
“THE SUMMER IS ENDED.” 
Summer, that portion of tho year in tho 
north temperate zone so delightful, has 
ended. She lives now only in tho memory 
of such as have survived her short and bril¬ 
liant course. In her advent she was not as 
gorgeously attired as most of her predeces¬ 
sors have been, yet notwithstanding this, 
she appearod no less richly adorned at the 
coronation scene, than they. But alas! 
sho has passed away. Behold her now, 
! robed in a shroud of decaying flowers. She 
annot be embalmed, but in the memories 
of her most devoted admirers, and must, 
therefore, bo consigned to tho tomb, over 
which the autumnal breezes will hymn 
their saddening and mournful wail, Nature’s 
equiem. 
But to pursue tho figure no further. To 
tho thoughtful person, a lover of Naturo, 
there is much to produce feelings of sadness 
when the words of tho weeping prophet are 
heard, “tho summer is ended.” For he 
emembers well how sweet was the procla¬ 
mation to his ear, and quickening to the 
pulsations of his heart, “ Lo ! the winter is 
past—tho howling and chilling storms are 
over and gone. The flowers appear on tho 
earth ; tho time of tho singing birds is come 
and tho voice of the turtle is heard in tho 
land ; the fig-tree putteth forth her green 
figs, and tho vines with tho tender grapo 
give a good smell.” 
Arise ! Go forth and behold tho two king¬ 
doms, tho animal and tho vegetable, vicing 
with each other, as it were, as if to seo 
which could do moro to attract the atten¬ 
tion of man. And not only these—the 
babbling brook coursing through the shaded 
lawn, tho fleecy clouds as they take their 
way through the azure vault, all seem to in¬ 
vite man forth to worship the Great Giver 
of such beauty and magnificenco as fill and 
adorn this pleasant world—to worship in 
spirit and in truth, not only in Jerusalem, 
but everywhere, whero tho Father has re¬ 
vealed his name to a dependent, erring 
child. 
It is tho season of all, which most glad¬ 
dens the heart of tho husbandman. Seed 
timo and harvest, summer and winter are 
promised by Him who is able to fulfill. The 
seed timo by whomsoever improved has 
been followed by tho early harvest, which 
has been gathered into tho barns. And the 
riponing corn is soon to be gathered in, 
when tho laborer as well as tho earth will 
havo a season of rest. 
Tho flowors havo faded and mostly gone 
—the singing birds have becomo mute, and 
are returning to tho sunny regions of the 
south; and instead of these soul-cheering 
songs tho air is now resounding with the 
mournful cries of expiring insects. Who 
can look upon tho decay of nature, and not 
bo reminded of his own demise ? Fit em¬ 
blem of human decay. We all have our 
summer, tho moral and spiritual seed timo 
of life; and tho Apostolic injunction sound¬ 
ing in our ears during summer time is, “Be 
not deceived; God is not mocked ; for what¬ 
soever a man soweth, that shall he also 
reap. For ho that soweth to the flesh, 
shall of tho flesh roap corruption; but he 
that soweth to tho spirit shall of the spirit 
roap life everlasting.” Reader! thy sum¬ 
mer may have already culminated. Which 
of these harvosts hast thou in expectancy ? 
Examine thyself and answer this serious 
inquiry, lest the language of the prophet to 
God’s ancient, rebellious people should be 
verified in thy case—“ Tho harvest is past, 
the summer is ended, and we are not saved.” 
w. 
“You have just returned, friend Manson, 
havo you net,” said Livingston, “from your 
western journey ?” “Yes,” ho replied, “I 
have; and there was a circumstance attend¬ 
ing it which will make it to me the most 
memorable event in my whole life.” “In¬ 
deed, what is that, my friend T “ Ah, it 
would take more time than either you or 1 
could now spare,” said Manson, “ for me to 
relate, ami you to listen to the particulars; 
but I will attempt a very brief sketch of tho 
substance. When I went to school in Con¬ 
necticut, I had a very dear friend and 
schoolmate, named Jofin Me L-d. He 
was one of the brightest and most beloved 
pupils in the school. IIo grew up paid his 
addresses to a beautiful and excellent young 
ady, a member of tho Church. At length 
he was married to his Mary, and they pre¬ 
pared immediately after that event, in pur¬ 
suance of a previous plan, to emigrate to a 
Western State. Tho evening before the 
lay we were to separate, perhaps, forever, I 
had a tender interview with my bosom friend 
and his lovely wife; it was deeply affecting 
to all of us. 
The next morning thoy departed, with 
the affectionate farewells of many old 
friends and neighbors in the town, where 
they were born and reared, and with a hand¬ 
some provision made by the parents of both, 
who were in competent circumstances.— 
Ten years elapsed, during which I was call¬ 
ed to tho Methodist ministry in distant 
places, as my lot happened to be cast. Not 
a word concerning them reached my ears 
in all that time. Tho course of duty called 
me then to the vicinity of the place where 
my friends had settled, and I resolved to go 
out of my way considerably to give John 
and Mary a call. Arriving at tho town, and 
enquiring lor thoir residence, I was told 
they lived some distance from the centre of 
tho village. At length I found tho place. 
At the first glance my mind misgave me.— 
The sight of the miserable cabin made me 
sick, and after hitching my horse, I scarcely 
dared to enter. Knock, I could not; there 
was no door—nothing but a blanket stretch¬ 
ed across the passage. Removing this, alas ! 
what did I behold ! There was Mary sitting 
on a stool with an infant on her lap, and 
another child in the corner on the ground, 
for the cabin had no floor. 
Oh sight of woo ! IIow altered was the 
lovely Mary T-n ! ‘ Do you remember 
mo, dear Mary?’ ‘0! Mr. Manson, is it 
indeed you? Wo are ruined; John is lost, 
and I and tho children aro starving here.— 
Wo have not had a morsel to eat since yes¬ 
terday morning.’ 
‘Great heavens,’ said I, ‘and where is 
John ?’ 
‘ IIo is at the store; and has not been here 
for several days.’ 
‘ I must see him,’ I replied. 
‘Better not sir, ho is savage now; and 
will ill treat you.’ 
‘ I must and will seo John.’ 
I started immediately for the store, ac¬ 
cording to her direction. Thero was no 
time to lose, for I was to be at conference, 
whither I was bound, at a certain time ap¬ 
pointed. I readily found the store, and en¬ 
tered. The first sight disclosed four men 
playing cards at a table. Tho next glance 
discovered a man stretched out along a 
whiskey hogshead. The landlord was sit¬ 
ting by, but instantly hopped up and ran 
behind tho counter to wait upon me, sup¬ 
posing I was a customer. Says I, ‘Is John 
McL-d here ?’ They all looked at me, 
on hearing that question, as if I had been 
tho old one, or a sheriff. ‘ What is that to 
you ?’ ho sullenly replied. ‘ I want to see 
him.’ While 1 was speaking, I took another 
sweep of tho room with my eye, and saw 
something like a man asleep in tho corner. 
‘ Is that John ?’ 
‘ Nono of your business,’ answered the 
surly bar-keeper. 
* If it is that unhappy man you will find 
it some of my business.’ 
So I went to him, recognized him, though 
in this shocking, beastly plight, and began 
to try to wake him. This was no easy job ; 
and while I was about it the rumseller and 
his guests remonstrated, telling mo to go 
away, threatening chastisement, and show¬ 
ing violence. I had in my hand a loaded 
whip, and am not inferior, you know, in 
At last ho consented. We knelt down 
on tho earth—thero was no chair nor table 
in tho house—I took out the pledge, which 
I always carry in my pocket, placed it on 
the stool whore Mary had been sitting, and 
handed him my pencil. He wroto his name, 
thank God ! Notwithstanding his condition, 
it was beautifully written, as I afterwards 
observed, for he was an excellent English 
scholar. We did not riso till I had relieved 
my over-burdened heart in prayer, and I 
prayed with all my struggling soul, and his 
despairing wife joined me in tho solemn in¬ 
vocation, that the Father of Mei’cies would 
receive the returning prodigal to his arms, 
and that ho might never go astray again. 
It was now quite timo for me to go, and 
resume my journey ; but I could not leave 
the town before I called upon tho class- 
leader, left him some money for the family, 
and enjoined on him to look after them, and 
throw around John the shield of all good 
influences to prevent his suffering a relapso. 
Whatever further charges he should incur 
on their account, I promised to pay as soon 
as informed of them. 
Another decade rolled by, during which, 
no tidings came to mo at the East, from this 
interesting couple. At length, I was called 
again to visit those western regions, and to 
pass near the residence of this unfortunate 
brother. On reaching tho town, my disap¬ 
pointment was extreme, to learn that ho had 
removed to a distant country. I anticipa¬ 
ted misfortune; but as theplacodesignated 
was not far from my intended route, I re¬ 
solved to go on and see him. When I en¬ 
tered the town of-, where John was said 
to live, I made inquiry for his dwelling, and 
was told, it was the second house on tho 
left hand side of tho road. Being now so 
near, I hastened onward eagerly, and pres¬ 
ently a nice frame building, painted white, 
appeared. I could not help putting up an 
ejaculatory prayer, that my dear friend 
might be so happy as to occupy any house 
half as respectable as this. Expectation 
now became painfully intense. What in 
mercy was I sent to see ? A scene like that, 
or worso, which ten years before, left such 
awful traces on tho memory, never to bo 
obliterated ? I could not tell. At a sudden 
turn in tho road, I thought I discerned an¬ 
other white house in tho distance among 
tho trees. Yes, it is so, with green blinds, 
and as I went nearer, graveled walks were 
seen, a handsome paling and ornamental 
trees and shrubbery. Surely there is some 
mistake in the direction; this cannot be 
John’s house! yet it is the second on the 
left. 
Fastening my horse to a hook, I went to 
tho door and knocked. A girl, just on the 
verge of womanhood, opened it. ‘ Does 
Mr. McL-d live hero ? I asked with 
trembling. 
* He does, sir.’ 
‘ Is he, or his wife at home ?’ 
‘ Mother is within, sir; but father is in 
the field. Please walk in, sir.’ 
My eyo glanced through tho open parlor 
door. A fine carpet covered the floor.— 
There were handsome chairs, and other fur¬ 
niture; but I saw no moro, for Mrs. Mc- 
I,-d by this timo was informed of a gen¬ 
tleman's arrival, and lost no time in making 
her appearance. ‘ Good God,’ was all I re¬ 
member to have heard from her, as she 
rushed forward on seeing me, and clasped 
me by the neck. She almost fainted, and 
shed a tlood of tears, and my own condi¬ 
tion was not much more composed. Re¬ 
covering a little, sho informed mo, that her 
husband was at home but out upon tho farm. 
Too impatient to wait, I hurried away to 
see him. Ho met mo as he was coming 
home. As soon as he knew who it was, ho 
ran forward and grasped mo in his arms, 
saying as he strained me to his bosom,— 
‘Thank God! Thank God! you aro my 
savior under heaven. This is all your work,’ 
looking around. ‘ O, I am rejoiced that you 
are here to seo it.’ 
When ho had returned to the house, tho 
ten year’s history of struggle, repentance, 
and reformation, was recounted. Prosperi¬ 
ty was the consequence. The dwelling was 
his, tho farm and all. His wife was happy. 
Tho beautiful girl, almost a young lady now, 
was the dirty child, that was crawling on tho 
ground on my first visit. There were three 
more children now. To crown the whole, 
said he, ‘ after I had persevered a year in 
abstinence, according to that blessed pledge, 
taken on that awful day, on the stool in the 
log hut, which rises to mo sometimes with 
spectral horror—after keeping it sacredly 
a year, I committed myself to the Church, 
of which my wife, who has been an angel 
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point of wiry, muscular power; and though . helping mo was a member. Prosperity at- 
a man ot peace, I contess that in the whole : £ enc i e( i ni y worldly business; but this was 
of tho twenty-seven years I have been in 
tho ministry, I never felt so strong a dispo¬ 
sition as at that moment, to give four or 
five men a thrashing. They were intimi¬ 
dated, and I succeeded in getting John up¬ 
on his legs, and trotting him off homewards. 
My presence and tho exercise sobered him, 
so that when he reached his hovel, ho was 
in his right mind. 
I forgot to mention that when I first went 
into the house, tho child upon tho ground 
started up affrighted, running to her mother 
crying. 
not a complete satisfaction. I wanted to be 
more useful; I needed something more;— 
and commenced studies for tho ministry.— 
My dear friend and brother, I am now a 
minister of the everlasting gospel. How 
much, what an inexpressible debt do I owe 
to you !’ 
We knelt down together on the rich car¬ 
pet, instead of tho cold earth, and prayed, 
as fervently as I prayed before in the log 
cabin ; but in what a different strain ! In¬ 
stead of tho almost despairing supplication 
and entreaty of forlorn hearts, crushed to 
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1 I s he .£°i n .£J to carry us to jail, mother, . earth with sorrow, thanksgiving, praise, 
where father was ? - ~ 
And that poor mother sobbed upon my 
hand as if her heart would break. Well, I 
Let your word bo sacredly kept, even in 
the smallest particulars. 
conversed with them an hour, talked of old 
times in Connecticut, the old villago and 
school days. Ho was softened, his heart was 
touched. Then I urged tho pledge; his 
wife put in her profoundly earnest, almost 
frantic plea. She felt this to bo indeed the 
hour of destiny. 
‘Do you think I can keep it?’ said at 
length the miserable man, once so promis¬ 
ing^ now so fallen. ‘ Is it possible for mo 
to be saved ?’ 
‘ It is,’ said I, with confidence and hope, 
‘you can keep it. I know you can. In the 
name of humanity and religion, try it, dear 
John, and God will help you.’ 
! and gratitude now rose spontaneously from 
our tongues and hearts. 0, the heart of 
Ceesar never swelled with such triumphant 
joy at any of his conquests, as mino does for 
any agency in the salvation of this one man, 
and the happiness of his family .”—Newark 
Daily Advertiser. 
Somebody has fonetized our “ Old Blue 
Hen ” after this fashion : 
“ Htiever stole our olbluben, 
Tlia'd betr letur B, 
She allwz lad 2egzoda, 
& Sundiz she lad 3.” 
Great lies, sententious absurdities, often 
obtain credence more readily than false¬ 
hoods of less pretension. 
L 
