bounded into their presence joyfully exhibiting the lucky prize occasioned by another's misfortune. While he slips the douceur into his incipient purse, or drops it upon the little growing pile in his chesttill, he wishes perhaps that such chances might come often, and these guardians and guides of his immortal nature seemingly wish the same.

No doubt there are many, many instances, wherein the young do not prove traitors to their pure, spontaneous sympathies, by taking pay for their exercise. One such instance I once experienced myself, and for encouragement to the pure, and example to the perverted, I will relate it. Sometimes a good deed is so associated in our minds with peculiar circumstances, that we ourselves, if not others, deem it to have uncommon significance and value. It is so in my mind with the one in view. But first I would say something of the town wherein the scene to be described took place; for that town is dear to my heart from the many delightful hours, yea, days, I have spent therewith a clerical friend, whose good-doing and excellent example I shall directly have occasion to mention. He will forgive me, I trust, for pointing to his light, which, though shining clearly and very brightly before men, men may not see, although it is before them.

The town of lies upon some of the boldest, roughest hills of New England, surrounded by scenery of the most imposing character. A few miles to the eastward arise mountainous piles, and

On

ridges of picturesque grandeur. Southward, towers the solitary, dark, blue summit of one of our grandest mountains. The steepled and columned church is loftily, and so peculiarly situated, that its roof sends the rain-drops on one side to the Merrimack, and on the other to the sea by the opposite channel of the Connecticut. From this airy elevation the eye, looking westward, first falls upon one of those numerous ponds which gem with crystal, and enchantingly mirror, these wilder regions. On one side of this water ascends a woody steep, made bold by rocky cliffs. On another a hill rounds up, and softens beneath the touch of agriculture. a third side, to the spectator in a particular position, the adjacent monarch of the hills seems to shoot his pinnacled supremacy into a skyey depth, which the watery reflection arches with the infinite magnificence of reality. Far away on the western horizon is discerned the line of the Vermont mountains, romantically diversified with extended ridge, rounded summit, and heaven-piercing peak. Such is the glorious scenery by which the Creator informs the . minds of many, and inspires the hearts of some, in these retirements. One would think, that love and awe toward alluring and soul-commanding nature would here modify aud hallow the all-possessing spirit of gain. Whether it be so or not is doubtful, for the hard, stern soil begets a habit of industry and persevering acquisitiveness, which the beautiful and grand would hardly counteract in most minds. The narrowed soul will not look out of its insignifi

cancy and turn from its petty purposes, although God's mightiest messengers in creation present themselves majestic at its casements or thunder at its portals.

But the particular town just described possesses other advantages of an intellectual and moral character, which cannot but have some good effect, especially on the young. The schools, I believe, are in an unusual state of forwardness, owing in some degree to a liberal fund left for their aid by a former wealthy clergyman of the place, now deceased. Libraries too were the subject of his benefaction, if recollection rightly serves. But the most distinguishing means of improvement, are the efforts and personal character of one of the present clergymen. He has been settled somewhat over twenty years. Very early in his ministry he commenced a juvenile library, which has steadily increased, and is the largest collection of the sort that I have ever seen. Through this, a universal taste for reading has been generated in the young mind. All under the age of thirty, down to childhood, cannot but have received improvement from this, and manifest it in their conversation and daily walks. Libraries of a higher character have also been established under the direction of the same individual. One of these is worthy of particular mention, as it is uncommon, viz., a scientific library, including all the volumes of one of the great cyclopedias. The farmer at his fireside, perusing works like these, is surely in a fair way to get the better of that all-prevailing mammon-service, of which complaint has been made.

Again, my clerical friend is a devotee to the natural sciences, and by example and precept has disseminated some taste for these subjects among his people. With Botany, and particularly Entomology, he is minutely familiar. When his parishioners come to his study to exchange books, (he being general librarian,) they occasionally linger over the cabinet of insects, shelves of minerals, and collection of plants and flowers, thereby themselves catching a taste for the charming studies of nature. It is particularly interesting, to observe the children hang with wondering delight over the glories of the floral kingdom and the insect tribes, before they trip away with their exchange from the book-shelf. The little folks are thus led not only to observe the flowers of the field more critically, and to chase the "blossom of the air," as Bryant calls the butterfly, but to look sharply after the comparatively despised bugs of the sod, and worms of the dust,-finding the Divine skill, beauty and perfection, where most never think to stoop for them. Now and then the little philosopher imagines he has found a specimen, which his Minister does not know of, as he has not seen it in his collection, and away he runs to surprise the good man with his discovery.

I trust that I shall be pardoned for giving such publicity to the character and efforts of a man who, in his exceeding modesty, would shrink from notoriety. I do it for the effect such an example may have on others similarly situated. See what good may be accomplished, what measures of enjoyment

be possessed, by a clergyman, though in the utmost seclusion from both the fashionable and the literary world, as it is called. Here, at the distance of seventy miles from the much desired advantages of the city, and forty miles from even a rail-road,* and on the rough steep hill-sides, is a living lesson which should not be lost on those clergymen who pine after the pulpit of the city, or the populous village. My clerical exemplar makes no pretension to graceful gesture, rhetorical flourish, or any thing like commanding eloquence. Neither do the hills perceptibly tremble beneath his pastoral tread. Yet, like the sunlight and the dews, what changes does he accomplish without making any noise, or startling the world to stop and gaze as he operates. And like those agents of nature which are the stillest though the mightiest, such a man works without mention; the lesson of his example is unheeded. It is lightning and torrent, in the spiritual as in the material world, which make men cry, lo! here, and lo! there. They are sudden, intense, and perhaps astonishing in their action, yet how brief and narrow are they, comparatively, in beneficent effects. I would by no means however assert, or imply, that special, occasional and tempest-like exertion may not be useful. Let those who are capable of such art, according to their capabilities, do good in their own way. I would simply suggest, that those who cannot compel week-day business to stop and

* Rail-roads have now been laid up to a point much nearer our friend's abode.