This farm consisted of a section of good land, partly lying on a small prairie, and partly wooded. The location was healthy, the distance from the village of Lakeland about two miles. Lakeland was a thriving interior village, containing between three and four hundred inhabitants, who had been brought there from many countries, impelled by diverse motives, and governed by various tastes and habits; so that it was not strange that there should be exceedingly opposite characters in society, as it regarded its moral and intellectual state. Some of those wants and necessities which it had at first seemed indispensable to provide for, Mr. Moreton found he should be obliged to give up; for the supply of others he must wait; and for some of them he was ready to labour and work with those among whom he was to live; so that it was with hope for the future, and a strong determination to help on the "good time coming," rather than with the feeling that everything was right already, that he concluded to settle at Lakeland. But we must leave the little village, with all its privileges and deficiencies, for another chapter, and go back to our friends, who were rejoicing in the early spring that was so auspicious for their journey.

By the last of April their preparations for removal were completed, and they were ready to start. The younger children were at times impatient at their delay, and Robert and Henry felt, every fine day, that it was time lost to remain any longer. But there were still many last things to be done-articles to be disposed of, friends to see, good-byes to be spoken. It could not be accomplished hastily and well; and, with Mr. Moreton, a thing that was not done well was not considered well done.

Another reason for delay was, that, having concluded to travel with their household goods, it became necessary and desirable to know that the different lines of transportation had completed their summer arrangements

before they left their New England home; otherwise, hindrances that were unpleasant might arise, and protract the time spent upon the journey.

To Mr. and Mrs. Moreton, every day brought with it its cares and its labours; and, as they had learned from actual experience to anticipate less from change than their children did, they did not regret the delay which gave them a few more weeks of pleasant intercourse with tried friends and acquaintances. Not a few would have persuaded them to remain quietly where they were, and many sought, by argument and advice, to lead them to reconsider their determination. "We cannot spare you," said their good pastor, as he and a few of their intimate friends were gathered in their little parlour, a few evenings before their departure. "We cannot spare you. I do not become reconciled to your going away. We need you here, in our village matters, in our social gatherings, in our church meetings, in the sanctuary, the Sabbath-school, and our pleasant prayer-meetings. We shall miss you in all these. Has not God given you a work to do here, and why should you seek another? Or why should you seek for greater blessings than he has here bestowed upon you?"

"I have no reason to leave my New England home to seek for blessings or mercies," replied Mr. Moreton. "Our lot has been cast in a pleasant place. Yet, regret as I may the separation from my friends, I am convinced that it is better for us to go. If I do but little good at the West, my children will have been brought up there; and, as Western men and women, may make amends for all my deficiencies."

There was a brother of Mr. Moreton's, who, from the first, had discouraged the idea of the family going west; and he, half replying to Mr. Moreton, half soliloquizing, said

"But you will all be sick, and either die in that climate,

or else drag on a miserable life, with broken constitutions and impaired health."

"Not quite so bad as that, I hope," said Dr. Newton, who had just arrived. "No, indeed!" said he, laying aside his overcoat, and drawing nearer the fire. "While journeying west last summer, I found, to my entire satisfaction, that there is reason to believe the climate had been much belied."

"You will hardly assert that it can be called a healthy country, though," observed the pastor.

"With the exception of fever and ague, I could find no disease that might be said to belong to the climate exclusively. Congestive fevers and other epidemics will spread over villages here as well as there, and many will die."

"But there are notoriously unhealthy regions throughout the West?"

"I know that well," replied Dr. Newton. "A swamp that is filled with rank vegetation, or a sluggish stream, with its green, slimy waters, will cause fevers and other diseases. But with such localities no wise man will have anything to do. Rich land, great crops, or abundant harvests, will never compensate for the loss of bodily vigour. But all the West is not a low, swampy, marshy country. There are dry elevated lands; there are clear, lively streams; there are rich fertile fields, stretching for miles and hundreds of miles, upon which the sun shines day by day, and about which no deadly miasma hovers, and which, if not as healthful as the poorer lands here in this rocky country, yet offer no hindrances to those who would settle on them on account of their unhealthiness." "Why is the proportion of deaths greater there than here?" asked Mr. Alfred Moreton.

"I can tell you one reason that might make it so, though I am not sure that it is true. A large proportion of the emigrants going West are in circumstances of

great poverty and want. Many of them have already become prepared for disease by a long and wearisome voyage. Their means are barely sufficient to enable them to reach their destination and purchase their farms; they must necessarily suffer from privation and exposure; their food is poorly prepared, and they are not guarded from changes of weather. It is no wonder that they sicken. Then bad nursing, and the imprudent use of powerful medicines, prolong their sicknesses, and often death kindly ends the struggle; then another class of emigrants are healthy, stout, young people, from the Eastern States. They are, through ignorance of sickness, imprudent as regards exposure, and only desire to make money fast. If there are facilities for carrying on a mill, what do they think about the marsh beyond? Just nothing at all! And the richer and blacker the earth, so much the more promise of great harvests. They are in haste to be rich, and will throw their lives, which no wealth could purchase, under that Juggernaut of Christian lands-the god of money-for the sake of gain. If they are crushed, must the climate take all the blame?"

"There must be something to compensate for the giving up of their homes, and to pay for the loss of luxuries and comforts that a man relinquishes when he leaves civilized life and goes into the woods. What would you have this something to be, if not gain in wealth?"

"Freedom from heavy duties imposed by government, and the blessing of equal rights and privileges, the poor emigrant from foreign countries would consider an equivalent for all he has given up. Add to this, the liberty to worship God in his own way, without molestation or fear; and, if he has suffered, as many have done, he will be satisfied. To others, there is the comfort of finding a little money go far in securing to their families the necessaries of life, and of feeling that poverty is no degradation."

"But these are a poor man's blessings-and blessings I acknowledge them to be. Yet, why should a man whose education has fitted him to move in a large circle, whose habits are those formed by the usages of good society, and whose tastes are refined and intellectual-why should he leave a home such as we enjoy, go far away from all his social and religious privileges, to a place where his very acquirements and knowledge will be a hindrance to him, his tastes and habits only sources of annoyance, because ungratified, and where a strong back and a stout arm are the only personal things that can avail for his help?"

"Why do we need the best corn for seed, and why do we seek a field to plant it in that has lain fallow and unused? At the West, every well-regulated family is like seed sown in good ground. Their example cannot fail to influence others. Oftentimes, those who could not be driven to industry and sobriety, can be lured to both by the sight of the prosperity which follows good habits, as evidence in their favour. A Christian family, if consistent, can do still more. The good they do is upon a sure foundation; and God has wisely ordered it that such families shall be scattered here and there. As to the objection, that education and accomplishments are lost there, I do not agree with you. I believe that there is no gift of God to the intellect of man, and no acquirement or accomplishment, which may not be made as available there as here for the promotion of happiness and prosperity; and, while I may not go there myself, I honour those who are willing to go, and who have the courage to enable them to meet the trials and disappointments that a removal will bring."

"I suppose you are right,” replied the pastor; "and, unwilling as I am to lose our friends from our circle, I must be satisfied to see them depart, and bid them Godspeed. But I do not often have a greater trial to my