, mould to be susceptible ‘of refined affection.
- ..,. ..z...,,-~.. .-..~ «~-
HYJIM composed for adlllsszonary .Me_cting°
.Froiti Greenland’s icy mountains, ‘
F rotrl India’s coral strand,
. VVhere .«&t'rit;’s sonny fountains
- _ Roll down their golden sa‘/nd : '
From many an antic/nt rivcri
‘gal-‘io_r_ii manygapaliny plain,
. They call us fo’ deliyer
. '1‘:-hcirltinecl fl'OIIi‘Efl‘0I"5 chaini
1Vli'at.though tlichspicy breezes
Blow soft o’cr Ceyloh’s Isle,
__ Though every prospect pleases,
» » . And only‘man is vile :
In vain with lavish kindness,
.‘ The gifts of God are strewn ;
The heathen in his blindness,
Bows down to wood and 91011:-
Shall we, whose souls are lighted
. VVith wisdom from oti high,
Shall we to men beniglited,
The lamp of life deny -7.-/"l"
,_,. , o..nt'dl[l0nl
\ . -~~S-—a11vfilejbyl'ul sound procltiim,‘
‘Till each reniotest nation
I-Ias learnt Messiah’s name 3
‘Vail, waft, ye winds, His story,
* And you, ye waters, roll,
Till, like a sea of glory,
It spreads from pole to polef
Till o"er our ransom’d nature,
The Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, Iélng, Creator,
, In bliss returns to reign. .
;_—_-;-'-_-__--;...
. . iiiiori THE UTICA ,m_'i‘iuo'r.
‘Mr. Wz{lz'ams -—Some‘two or three weeks ago,
a, lady calling herself Sarah Smith, was found in
Brookfield, about six miles distant, under’ a tree,
apparently asleep.‘ She gave no very satisfacto-
ry account of hetself-—was very desirous of going
to Parts. She said her mother lived there, and
tl‘..".t her. name was the widow Smith, &c.; but
nothing which would satisfy any person that her
stoiy was true. The person who found her, tak-
ing pity onwher as an unfortunate female indis-
ttess, brou ht her he're as she wished. She
could not find her mother, and was left at the
house of Mr. I. F. : since which time, she has
written the enclosed history of herself, which,
although reveals nothing ofitself, yet may. per.
haps, be the nieams of discovering her true name
and cliamcter, if pericliancc the want ofothernews
may be; the means ofits insertion in your paper.
Pails, August 5, I821. _
Illzic/1 t‘I.’_8/-’c"€»‘£’£1 Fricnd““* Then you‘ really
think your penetration has guessed the cause of
my present painful situation. ‘Well, sir, I will
give you credit forwhat you have discovered;
butyou judge hardly—you even judge me caps-.
bio of being deceived. In this (pardon me, sir.)
you wrong me, but you wrong my friend still
more in believing him capable ofgleceiving. No,
Mr. T. ; he possesses too much of the noble Spirit‘
of the friend to whom I was writing. But how
ahen will you account or this strange drania .7
Well, I will tell you all, and trust God for the
eveftt.
My parents both sleep in death-—brothers and
sisters I have none. I was left under the roar-
" r i he 1 l) it t I f
dianshipo my one e, t ony rot er 0 my a-
ther. He liad‘au only son,-who solicited my hand
with the approbation of hils fat her. My hteatt was
already devoted to one w to was worthy o my es-
teem. Had it not been, Icould never have giv-
en it to my distrusted cousip. lie said the pro-
‘ v — ‘ ' he amil :——I re-
pert) should never go out o _t y p
some he had no inure affection’ for me than any
other person ; indeed his heart is of too coursjeia
c
gem my friend a challenge tvlilcli he had courage .
not to accept. lie was torbidden thehouse, and
I detained from school when Iliad anticipated go-
ing, till at length, vvearypfbeing tcazetl pne
whose very appearance disgusted me, I solicited
my uncle to finish my education in a c'onvent,
with which request he complied-‘-giving charge
to the overseers of the nunnery, to permit no let-
ters to pass to or from me without inspection.
I continued therea year, and have had no com-
munication from M-—-—-, or he from ‘me since;
but I presume he is still the same. ‘I he lastlet-
ter I had from him, was filled, -not with flutter-ing
epithets, but with that noble manlineris of senti-
ment that won my heart. Otir love was not of
that wild and romantic kind which breaks through
the walls of convents, or jumps out of a gztrret-
window; but is founded on an opinion of merit
and takes reason for its guide. But to return to
my cousin. Some time in June last, he came
with a command from his lather for me to return
home, which I reluctantly obeyed; and on the
passage, my ears were again stunned with the
old hated subjefct, and Ilswas thyjeatcnetl with ruin
in case of a re usal. ut stea y‘ to my purpose,
I prepared my-mind for the worst. knowing I was
in the pot‘.-‘cl’ of one who had neither honour nor
conscience to wound. ‘
Instead of carrying me home, he left meal a
‘_r,{[p3_ s,mm,’,-, -., widow, who had no cl‘iild_reri, but .
a ,,;e¢e.1iving with her by the name. of Susan.
she treated me kindly, though I_ had little con-
versation with her. I ‘confined myself principal-‘
jy ,0 my chamber, and do not know that it ever
occurred to me to inquire the name of the place
orthe neighbours. _ '
One day my new mother came _into my room,
and said she had one word of advice for me. I
answered, I am alwayf readky to t‘.clpelI)\'e-i§=11013TY
advice. Slie'begao— thin _ it wi _ e 0*" Y°}”'
interest to comply _with the W_.15l1¢_5 °l Y0“ C°“5‘_l"
He loves you passionately, and intends honouta.
bl-2 marriage. I considered her addiess unwor-
my of an'answer and was silent. “fhat do hyotcil
sa 3 said she. I say I will "CV3? SW3 “W _ "‘“
toyCh‘arles Granby. 1 I631‘ Y0“? "efusal "'1" be
atrcnded with fatal consequences. I am-pI‘6P6u“
ed for the consequences. Thus ended the con-
versation. Next morning after bleflilasli 1 “wk
a book, Supposing it to big (‘.o\ypet'1siPple‘:ns, pod
'walked out. It was the rst time ia een W0
rods from the house. f _I
, I entered a.litt,lc grove, perhaps lial fiadmi :3
{mm M,-5, Smttli s, where Ifoonda seclu, e_ seat
and spent the. whole day without interruption, ‘I
hardly know in‘ what mantier, but have no reco -
l
l
3.
:§t
x" .-j_ '.; ~.- .. - I- l ,. -.. .,
lection of opening my book. awoke from my V _ _
reverie just as the sun was beginningtto sink be- ‘Your letter, which I received last evening, ban-- .
low the western‘ horizon. .I arose‘ and advanced
with hasty steps towards the road. Probably I
went the wrong way. I had not proceeded far
before I was overtaken by a gentleman in a ‘chaise
Sarah, (said he,) where are you going? I am go-
’ing home said I. You have got lost and are going
the wrong way. Mrs‘. Smith was concerned a-
bout you, and wished me to come after you ;—
get into the chaise and we willsoon be there. I
did‘ so with unsuspecting credtility. Vv't-J hadnot
proceeded far before we left the road for another,
and soon came to a house where he stopped and
brought me it glass of wine, wliich, having taken
no nourishment, was not unacceptable. Another
gentleman stepped into the chaise and drove on.
Being absorbed in thought, I did no: observe but
it was the same until I concluded we must have
gone far enough to get home. I enquired, are
we near Mrs. Smith’s? He answered, we ‘are 5
my COUSIIL VS/here are you going? I atn going
‘O Punish your obsiinacy. In this situation, I
travelled until I should judge it was two -in the
morning. VVe came to a place where the road
was shaded from the beams of the Moon‘ by tiees
“"hlCl1g|‘<='\V On each side. In this gloomy l‘eCt=sS-
I_w-as taken from the carriage and carried some
distance into the wood. It is your'de.slgn I pie
Sllfnea Said I, to take my life :——Vv’ell I resign it
—_--it is no longer dear to me. Not to take your
life: but to do every thing else which man can do
to defcnceless woman. to place you in a situation in
_which you will he as importnnate to me as I have
been to you, and perhaps with as little success.
-After being almostspent with terror and fa-
tigue, he fortunately hit his head against the bio-
ken limb of a tree which caused him considera
blc pain, though he still held my arm.
If, said be, you will solemnly engage never to
reveal your name or any thing relating to you, I
will let you escape and go wherever you please ;
but (lfflrild upon it, should I ever hear from you-.
not only your life is at stake, but that of him who
has been a hindrance to my happiness. I almn
not be at thecerempny of giving the ccwarda
formal challenge, but Vl ill assassinate: or cause him
to be assassinated whenever I have an opportunity.
I liromi-“rd: and inquired where does Mrs.
Smith live? In Paris, was his answer. About
20 miles, btit it is not worth your while to go
there-you will never find her. I shall take
your baggage home and report that you died in a
Convent. So saying, he put his hand to his head,
uttered a groan and let go my arm. I escaped
with all possible speed, and came to it church, and
finding the door unlocked, I entered and fastened
iron the inside, and had been there perhaps 20
minutes, when I imagined I heard a voice. I
went to the window, and to my inexpressible hor-
ror, heard Charles cursing himself for letting me
escape. My sotil almost left its habitation. Per-
haps he would-come in there in search of me-—
bot he passed by. -. In one of the pews, I found
2! Lualiion nnel a C(\I'Pcl—-—\vc|\[ to the gallery, and
on this hard bed reclined my almost lifeless form.
and knew no more till the next day towards eve-
ning. VVhen Iawoke, I found myself a stranger
——destitute ofa name and every resource--far
absent from my native home, and even there I
had nothing to hope : I had found shelter in the
of night, but from the fury ofa savage. I some-
times resolved to make that sanctuary my grave,
for I felt I shotild survive: but a short time. But
it was otherwise "ordered. “For what I am pre-
served or what greater afflictions await me,I know
not. I left the Cl'llll‘Cl‘l——\V'all§€(l a short distance
--came to a house—--found a chair in the hall-—
sat down and fell asleep. I was awaked by a kind
voice which invited me to walk in. I was kind.
ly treated ; they probably thought the deranged—-
I might have been partially so. They inquired
where I was going-+1 told them to my mother's.
In the morning they thought it best for me to
go, saying mother would be concerned. I
went, trembling at every step for fear of encoun
tering the wretch from whom I had escaped. I
walked until I could go no further. I saw a lane
which led into a piece of woods. Th'ere I retired
and was awake and asleep by turns, until the moon
had climb‘cd far in her nightly journey, when I
again entered the road, and as all was still I walk-
ed on without interruption, but felt much incon-
venience from the damp air. I came to a school-
house which I entered and staid till neat‘ d:iy,when
I was compelled to walk, oifaccotint of the cold,
from which I suffered extremely. Becoming
warm by exercise. I was again drowsjr, and could
scarcely stand. Ifany one saw me,I believe they
thought me intoxicated. I was obliged to sit
down; some people came to me and invited me
to go in antl lie down. I did so and slept, perhaps
an hour. VVhen I awoke, there were a number
of people in the house and several females in the.
room wliere I was lying, but there was an air of
rustic C€l)SOl‘l0l_)5nt:Ss in their manner which con-
vinced me that I" had not fallen into the hands of
friends. In another room, I heard a number of
clowns talking immoderately and immodcstly. I
arose and without iiiuchceremony left the house.
I was shortly overtaken by an old gentleman in a
one horse waggon. He invited me to ride. Under
any other ci_rcumst-ances, probably I should not
have accepted, but as it was, I did. He had the
politeness to ask me no questions except where I
was going, t_o which I gave an ambiguous answer.
He_ari‘ived at the end of his jotirney—'-s'topped—..
I got out of the waggon and walked on until I was
so completely exhausted that I could go no fur-
ther. Isat down by the side of the road under
the shade of a tree to rest, without intending to
get asleep, but did, and there was found by those
people who had the goodness to receive andtreat
me kindly, and who brought me‘ here.
Knowing I must be a stranger somewli‘ero,’I
chose to be left alone with tliosefwlijo possess some
refinement ;- for that reason I chose to stay here,
rather than at Mr. Smith’s. Something you said,
when you handed me into the waggou the day I
went up tliei'e"" with those ladies, impressed‘ ‘my
mind with‘ an idea that I-should find in you afriend.
'1' bus far I have not been disappolntdtl;
As the (love, wlilen-tpursoetl by an eagle, flew
into the bosom ofgjgiian, so I, from the kindness
of your sister, call:‘f6ft-'th, my warmest gratitude to
‘her. I had com:-.’*toT'a;;_;leterminatidn to reyeat my
history, wheneveg her.’ mind became sufficiently
composed to ‘hear it. I too know what t is to
it T/bu} was written -in the form q/'a»lc.tter 1'0 0
gentlcmm in this _ce. . '
.r.'
weep over the remains of beloved parents.;
.o_ . J
miles from there-—and I recognized the voice of
sanctuary of God, not only from the damp chills -
-._ 5. ‘
‘air. ,.v
of I‘ l” '
' 1
- :r
I . '4
I have ‘already been too’ ‘minute and tedious.
,,ishetl all reserve- I have been very frank on a
deli ate subject, if‘ too much so, your goodness
will pardon me.
It‘ is still my determination to end my days in‘
seclusion. I haveanother alternative. Should any
thinglbe attempted while here, prejodicialto my
honor, which I understand is threatened, Iliave
courage. to die, and I have courage to become my
own executioner. Should I be reduced to an ex-
tremity, I think I should be justifiable in so doing.
It is one of the laws of nature, that one man has
the rlght to take the life of anotherin selfdefence,
and yliy not by the same law, take his own in de-
fence of that which is dearcr- From the
’ 3 MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.
,.
*5‘ TIM /zerrons who brought /ier lirre carried her
on tda Afr. S. Smir/z’.v, oft/12's flfdfc’, but not_/Ending
/ier I or/1t"r,-_a/zc returned. ’
l ----1%-'2'-'-‘$:""‘
Geografzliical Drs-cri/ztzon of «imcrica.
Tire following specimen of European ignorance
respeslng America.is truly amusing. Itis copi-
ed from a large work in five quarto volumes, en-
titled ‘ The Geograpliical and HistoricalDiction-
guy of America and the \Vest Indies. Contain-
ing an authentic translation of the Spanish work
"of Col. Don -An=onio dc Aicedo, captain of the
t‘ct}'::‘l Spanish guards, ‘and member of the Royal
./‘fcatleliiy of History, with large additions and com-
pilations from modern voyages and travels, and
from original and uuzlicntic information, by G. A.
Thompson Esq. London 1812.’ These English
and Spanish au~hors thus describe Connecticut:
—= C'o:iNzc'i'icU"r, a county of the province and
colony of New England, in North America. It
is bounded vqest by New-'York.—'l‘liis prpvince a-
bounds in wood. terpentineand rosin, in the col-
lecting of which, numbers of the inhabitants are
employed. This county is well peopled and floor-
ishing, since it numbers upwards of 40,000 souls.
When this colony w as first founded, many great
privileges were given it, which have always lielen
m;tinta'aned_ by the English governor through the
fidelity it manifested in not joining the insurrec-
tion of the province of Massachusetts, until, in
the lasl Win‘. it was separated from the metropo-
lis» 33 55 SOC?! Under the article. U. States of A-
merica.’ The English editor adds..t me ¢a,,i,,,1
is Boston.’ ,
‘ PISCATAQUA a part of the North Sea, on the
province of Continent, one of those in New-Engu
landvin N. America, where its boundaries touch
upon the boundaries of New Hampshire.’
Such gross ignorance of this country,‘ so late
as the year 1832, can scarcely be believed, but
these volumes abound with similar absurdities
respecting different parts of the United States.
zf.ogz'c.——In a late debate in the British house of
Cbcnmons, on the subject of the navigation laws,
‘Mr. ‘Wallace made use of the following self-com-
jllitccnt logic. to prove the sttperiotity of England.
‘ It has been truly said, he observed, that he
who commanded the sea. commanded the com-
rrtcrce ‘of the world; that he who commanded
the commerce of the world, commanded the
tvealtli of the world ; and that he who command-
ed the wealth of the world, commanded the world
itself.’ ' ‘
This reminds us ofa pedagogiie who claimed
prct':c'dence over liismeighbors, by a process of
reasoning very similar to that of Mr. Wallace.-—
In justification of his claim, he observed, I am a
schoolmaster. I govern an only son.'..wlio gov-
erns his mother--who rules her llllSl)al'l(}-'-—WllO
regulates the patisli--Ergo, I am lord of the vi].
loge.‘--JV. Y. .x$'mc1 than.’
\ ._
——¢¢g.....' ' —
Fortune Teller.-—A fortune teller was arrested
at his theatre of divination, alfresco, at the cor.
ner of the Rue de Bossy, in Paris and carried be-
fore the trihunal of correctional police. ‘ You
know how to read the future?’ said the president,
a man of great wit, but too fond of a joke for a
'.‘/lagistt-ate. A‘ I do, M. le President,’ replied the
surceror. § In this case,’ said the judge, c you
know the judgment we intend to pronounce.’
‘ Certainly.’ ‘ Vv'ell, what will happen to you 2’
‘Nothing.’ ‘ You are sure of it ?' t You win ac.
quit me.’ ‘ Acquit you 1’ ." There is no (loulot of
it.’ ‘ VVhy 1' ‘ Because sir, g‘/'2': /m_d been your in-
tention to condemn me, you would not have added
irony to misfortune.’ The president, disconcerted,
turned to’ his brother judges, and the sorcei~o,.
was acquitted. ~
. Gerzufne Lazi/ze.9s.—A young farmer inspect.
ing his fathei’s concerns in the time of ha‘). ha,--
vest, found a body of the mowers filsleep ,.,i,,,n
they should have been at wane ‘ IVhatis this?’
cried the youth. ‘ \’Vhy,me, you areso indolent
I would give a crown to know which is the-most
lazy of you.’ ‘ I am he,’ cried the one nearest
him. still stretching himself at his case. ‘ Here
then,’ said the youth holding otit the money.-—
‘ Oh, master George_, (said the fellow, folding his _
arms) do pray take the trouble ofputting it in my
pocket for me.’ ‘ '
From the Cincinnati (Ohio) Inquisitor.
misenius or noun: LIFE--(New Series.)
Gruan l.—VVhen (after itailllig impatiently for
two or three hours) the carrier arrives with the
Newspaper, to have a neighbour who happens in,
immediately to seize it, and (comfortably seated
on a tobacco keg, and his feet genteely resting
on a bag of coffee) composedly reading it through,
from beginning to end-,‘-I before the poor wishful
owner can get a peep at it‘.
Graan 2.-—When a number of persons are bu-
sily engaged in perusing the contents of a new
hatidbill just posted up, to have another come up
and commence reading it aloud, to shew the bye-
standers that lie has.leai‘ned-to read.
Cxroan 3-'l‘o hp,-ve a dozen ortwo /zas-titular
friends coniinuallywleaning or sitting on a shop-
keeper’s counter, to the total exclusion of cus-
tomers. .
_ ./Ibsen: men.—.-The absent man would wish to
be thought a._,mati of talent, by affecting to for-
get what all_ot-fféifs remember ; and the‘ aintiqual
rian is in pursuit of the same thing, by remem-
bcring what all others jhave thought proper to for-
get.‘ I,_V_c’altinot but"‘t3_':tiik it would muiih‘ improve
sociclyi. . §.t!,’j;£1?jI abdbtit men would be antiquari-
','_l_,I:c;_li€1l."i,,j,'Ii‘ all aojiquaiijans would
men . - "
2.e‘i‘-'-
' ' . HAPPINESS--h rrutéili-.:,i-r’. ‘
‘ The scenes of mylife have been sad,’ said a
poor F renchrnamwho had scrambled up one of
jthe most precipitous mountains of North V‘Vitles',,
‘:and was now pensively leaning on his stick. and
casting a moornfol look towards the wide expanse
of waters, which bounded his prospect.
scenes of my life have-been slid,’ repeated he, and
a tear stole silently- down his'cheek, as the pain-
ful recollection of the past again struck upon his
soul-—“I lgave suffered the tortures of tlie'_iiiqui-
sition in Spain-'-.-I have been chained to the gal-
lies in Italy-I have‘ starred on the mountains of
Switzerland--I have groaned as a slave in Tur-
key--I have languished beneath the republican
ped as a vagabond in England--and I am grown
grey in miscfy, and old age has overtaken me in,
wretchedness I’-—'l'he tears streamed plentifully
down the checks of theiinfortunate old man, as
this painful retrospect presented llSBlfiOllISmll1(l.f
The Shflh was just casting his last rays over the
waters,and the west was tinged with bright streaks
of vermillion and gold. Not a breath of air ruf-
fled the surface ofthe deep-—not a sound invaded
the air—all was stillness and’ serenity, except
when the last notes of_the ascending sky-lark sunk
on the air. while the feathered soiigster himself
was lost in-'a distance. He insensibly felt his
spirits tranqtiilized by the universal harmony
which reigned around--the balm ofpeace descen-
ded upon" his soul——he looked upon the wonder.
ings of his past days with a calm but melancholy
regret-—ib was too late to begin life anew ; and,'a
little rest was necessary. When the sun had
sunk beneath the horizon, he laid himself or. the
turf, and soon dropped into a sweet and uninter-
rupted slumber. In the morning he arose re-
freshed. Beneath the wide-spreading branches
of a venerable tree, he constructed a simple but
-—his meat was supplied by the roots and the
herbs of the valley ; and the crystal spring, which
bubbled oy his dwelling,aiI'orded him a wholesome.
beverage. Every evening beheld him sinking
peaceably to repose on his bed of leaves; and ev-
ery dawning day saw him rise refreshed 8: cheer-
happy--tlie discovery astonished him. He was
isolated-—an outcast, depending on the spoma.
vonly sheltered from the inclemency ofthe weath-
er, by a cabin. over \'.l'ilCll the den ofthe wild
beast possessed many advantages. Under. such‘
circumstances, that he could be happy, was go
him-inct-mprehensible. After musing for some
time on the stijangencss of the fiict, he,foiind:,«,,,f
that all the miseries of his past life were imputed
to himself;that they arose from his own rest-
lessness and ambition ; and that the true.phlloso- ‘
pher’s stone, which converts every thing it touch-‘
es into gold, the real soorte of all _human happi-
ness, is contentment. HENRI’ K. VViiiTir.
dentally told us by a gentleman who never fails to
convert every oc'.'urrence in life (even the most
common intolessons of practical instruction in
morality and religion. ' _
Duct. Eleazer VVhe'elock. the first Pre_sident-
and venerable father of Dartmouth College,
(Moor’s Indian Charity School) made a iisit to
(Sampson Ockum) whom he had educated to
preach the gospel, to solicit the aid necessary to
carry his benevolent plans into effect, obtained
considerable donations from generous individuals,
he was advised to call upon a certain gentleman
of wealth for further assistancc——an attendant re-
ceived him at the door, and while he waited for
the master of the house, he heard him in an ad-
joining roorn loudly opbraidingla female servant,
for having thrown into the fire a small ‘remnant
of a candle which had been burnt to the socket of
the candlestick; on hearing this. Mr. W'he.;-1,é,¢t;
said to himself, I shall get nothing here.-._x1;e;»
gentleman however soon entered the room and
was made acquainted with the object of his visitor,
he expressed his approbation ol the noble enter-
prise iii “hich he was engaged, atid handed him
a bill which he said he could bestow; having at riv-
ed at his lodgings, he examined the bill, and to‘
his surprise found it to be for 501.--taking it for
granted his economical benefactor had madea
mistake of 50!. for 5!. Mr. IV. in the honesty of
nature, returned the next morning with the but
to his door, who assured him he had made no
mistake-—'but, said be, it is..yoo who have ,-,,‘,,(}e
the mistake—thc conversation you over heard res-
pecting the remnant ol the candle, gave you 3
wrong impression of my character; it is that Sys.
tem of habitual economy which enables‘n,,-_.\,,,
and t_;har'itable objects-—it is by fixed 8c permanent
p'ml”p.'°° “"-°-coiiomy that estates are ac‘quired--
and It ‘5 by the.“"T‘.\nri3iciples..of Libcrality that
they should l)e}\1(ilCIOuSry—.,.<‘;{osed.
.. __...___ -.-
From the Ret’:'g:'aus Irifelligmtcf.
THE PRAYER OF FAl.'l‘H. .
‘ I coil.’ not let that go except I/sou Hess me.’
At the commencement of the revival in title,
place, some of the brethren were sofeatnest—i-1"
prayer that they prayed all night- -—'13-h€‘»€pt‘ay-
ers we believe were answered. this young man
not long since, lcfta note on the table of his com-
panion,' who was apparently thoughtless, inform.
log him that he had retired to a secret place
where he should spend the whole night in pray-.
er for him. He had a sleepless night. In a
neighboring town, three or four ardent souls spent
most ofthe night in special prayer for some of
their companions. The next morning, three that
were identified in their prayers. who till then.
were stupid, and who knew nothing of the con-
cert, were under deep conviction., In another’
place alrnao who had been for-some time dis-
tressed for his sins askcglga christian friend to
for you? Yes, said the perittent. A young lady‘
present agreed to join in the concert. ’l'l_ic awa-
kened sinner retired and tiled to pra)’,l15-E5/elf. but
found no comfort. He went toJml/but he could
not sleep. He got up andwént 10 the barn and
staid 'll morning in ¢1a1‘Il'7i8~98- Wl.lt'_n the morn-
ing ,, peangd he was almost in despair. Asthc
sun aiose he leftthe barn; there, said he, they
havd donc,praying_aml I am los_t forever, The
mo enthc let go of-this twig‘ on which -he was
de riding, the Saviour received him, and he went '
.,,',5 "i'§"bOUSC ‘rejoicing in hope.
‘The _
tyranny in I*‘ranc,—-and, lastly,I have been whip. --
fnl. In’ a short tiiiié he discovered that -
e.\va:g_
neotis products ofthe earth for sustenance, and .»
The following extraordinary anecdoic was l“°i._7‘ '
England with one of the natives of the forest A
pray for him. Do you me to pray all nigh_t___,-
-2
0
5-
Lontrihute liberally to the pro~moti’€n_of be'ncvol'e‘tir~
Norwalk Chronicler