THE WESTERN READER. 151 strokes of the axe, the tinkling of bells, and the baying of dogs, and saw the newly-arrived emigrant either raising his log cabin, or just entered into possession. 2. It has afforded me more pleasing reflections, a happier train of associations, to contemplate these beginnings of so cial toil in the wide wilderness, than, in our more cultiva ted regions, to come in view of the most sumptuous man. sion. 3. Nothing can be more beautiful than these little bot toms, upon which these cmigrants deposit, if I may so say, their household gods. Springs burst forth in the intervals between the high and low grounds. The trees and shrubs are of the most beautiful kind. The brilliant red-Lird is seen flitting among the shrubs, or, perched on a tree, seems welcoming, in her mellow notes, the emigrant to his abode. Flocks of paroquets are glittering among the trees, and gray squirrels are skipping from branch to branch. 4. In the midst of these primeval scenes, the patient and laborious father fixes his family. In a few weeks they have reared a comfortable cabin and other outbuildings. Pass this place in two years, and you will see extensive fields of corn and wheat, a young and thrifty orchard, fruit trees of all kinds, the guarantee of present abundant subsistence, and of future luxury. Pass it in ten years, and the log buildings will have disappeared. 5. The shrubs and forest trees will be gone. The Arcadian aspect of humble and and retired abundance and comfort will have given place to a brick house, with accompaniments like those that attend the same kind of house in the older countries. 6. By this time, the occupant, who came there, perhaps, with a small sum of money, and moderate expectations, from humble life, and with no more than a common school education, has been made, in succession, member of the as sembly, justice of the peace, and finally, county judge. 7. I admit that the first residence among the trees affords the most agreeable picture to my mind; and that there is an inexpressible charm in the pastoral simplicity of those years, before pride and self-consequence have banished the repose of their Eden, and when you witness the first strug glings of social toil with the barren luxuriance of nature. THE WESTERN READER. 147 have joined with the people in thinking that the prosperity of America depended on its union. To preserve and per petuate it was the great object of the people in forming tha convention; and it is also the great ol ject of the plan, which the convention has advised them to accept. 14. With what propriety, therefore, or for what good purposes, are attempts at this particular period made by some incn to depreciate the importance of the union?-or why is it suggested, that three or four confederacies would be better than one? I am persuaded in my own mind, that the people have always thought right on this subject, and that their universal and uniform attachment to the cause of the union rests on great and weighty reasons. 15. They who promote the idea of substituting a number of distinct confederacies in the room of the plan of the convention, seem clearly to foresee, that the rejection of it would put the continuance of the union in the utmost jeopardy. That certainly would be the case; and I sincerely wish it may be as clearly foreseen by every good citizen, that, whenever the dissolution of the union arrives, America will have reason to exclaim, in the words of the poet,"Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!" LESSON LXXIII. The Blind Preacher.-WIRT. 1. It was one Sunday, as I travelled through the county of Orange, that my eye was caught by a cluster of horses tied near a ruinous, old wooden house, in the forest, not far from the road-side. Having frequently seen such objects before, in travelling through these States, I had no difficulty in understanding that this was a place of religious wor ship. 2. Devotion alone should have stopped me, to join in the duties of the congregation; but I must confess, that curiosity to hear the preacher of such a wilderness, was not the least of my motives. On entering, I was struck with his preternatural appearance. He was a tall and very spare old man; his head, which was covered with a white linen cap, his shrivelled hands, and his voice, were all shaking 148 THE WESTERN READER. under the influence of a palsy; and a few moments ascer▸ tained to me that he was perfectly blind. 3. The first emotions that touched my breast were those of mingled pity and veneration. But how soon were all my feelings changed! The lips of Plato were never more worthy of a prognostic swarm of bees, than were the lips of this holy man! It was a day of the administration of the sacrament; and his subject was, of course, the passion of our Savior. I had heard the sul ject handled a thousand times: I had thought it exhausted long ago. Little did I suppose that in the wild woods of America, I was to meet with a man, whose eloquence would give to this topic a new and more sublime pathes than I had ever before witnessed. 4. As he descended from the pulpit to distritu e the mys tic symbols, there was a peculiar, a more than human solemnity in his air and manner, which made my blood run cold, and my whole frame shiver. 5. He then drew a picture of the sufferings of our Savior, his trial before Pilate; his ascent up Calvary; his crucifixion, and his death. I knew the whole history; but never until then had I heard the circumstances so selected, so rranged, so colored! It was all new; and I seemed to have heard it for the first time in my life. 6. His enunciation was so deliberate, that his voice trembled on every syllable; and every heart in the assembly trembled in unison. His peculiar phrases had that force of description, that the original scene appeared to be at that moment acting before our eyes. We saw the very faces of the Jews; the staring, frightful distortions of malice and rage. We saw the buffet: my soul kindled with a flame of indignation; and my hands were involuntarily and convulsively clinched. 7. But when he came to touch on the patience, the forgiving meekness of our Savior; when he drew, to the life, his blessed eyes streaming in tears to heaven; his voice breathing to God a soft and gentle prayer of pardon on his enemies, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," the voice of the preacher, which had all along faltered, grew fainter and fainter, until, his utterance being entirely obstructed by the force of his feelings, he raised his handkerchief to his eyes, and burst into a loud and irrepressible flood of grief. The effect is inconceivable. LESSON LXXVII. Autumn and Spring.-PAULDING. 1. THE Summer passed away, and Autumn began to hang out his many-colored flag upon the trees, that, smiten by the nightly frosts, every morning exhibited less of he green, and more of the gaudy hues, that mark the yaning year in our western climate. 2. The farmers of Elsingburgh were out in their fields, bright and carly, gathering in the fruits of their spring and summer's lalors, or Lusily employed in making their cide.; while the urchins passed their holydays in gathering nuts to crack by their winter's fire. 3. The little quails began to whistle their autumnal notes; the grasshopper, having had Lis season of idle sport and chirping jollity, began now to pay the penalty of his thoughtless improvidence, and might be seen sunning himself at mid-day, in melancholy silence, as if an icipating the period when his short and merry race would be run. 4. Flocks of rolins were passing to the south, to seek a more genial air; the sober cattle began to assume their rough, wintry coat, and to put on that desperate appearance of ennui, with which all nature salutes the approach of winter. 5. The little blue-bird alone, the last to leave us, and the first to return in the spring, sometimes poured out his pensive note, as if Lidding farewell to the nest where it had reared its young. * * * * * * ** 6. Now the laughing, jolly Spring began sometimes to show her buxom face in the bright morning; but ever and anon, meeting the angry frown of Winter, loath to resign his rough sway over the wide realm of nature, she would retire again into her southern bower. 7. Yet though her visits were but short, her very look seemed to exercise a magic influence. The buds began slowly to expand their close winter folds; the dark and melancholy woods to assume an almost imperceptible purple tint; and here and there a little chirping bluc-bird hopped about the orchards of Elsingburgh. 8. Strips of fresh green appeared along the brooks, now |