own will than that which I felt when writing these for you" and he laid upon the table certificates of churchmembership for Mr. and Mrs. Moreton, Mary, and Henry, and letters of recommendation to the care and good offices of any church to which they might be presented, especially," he added, "as you will now be as sheep without a shepherd."

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"Shall we not still be under the care of the great Shepherd, and does he suffer any ill to befall those with whom he has entered into covenant?" asked Mrs. Moreton. "You will, yourself, implore for us his guidance; and, 'under the covert of his wings,' we shall be as safe there as here."

It was not without a struggle that the good pastor yielded up, to what he considered a life of toil and danger, these precious members of his own flock. As he departed, it was with great emotion that he clasped the extended hands of Mr. and Mrs. Moreton within his own, and, in solemn, earnest tones, tremulous with feeling, repeated the beautiful scriptural benediction :

:

"The Lord bless thee, and keep thee; the Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee; the Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give theo peace."

CHAPTER IV.

DR. NEWTON.

"I, TOO, came with a parting gift, accompanied with a dose of advice," said Dr. Newton, as the door closed upon their beloved minister. "My work is done as you desired, Mrs. Moreton."

Numb. vi. 24-26.

And saying this, he placed upon the table a small square mahogany box, which he opened with a polished key, and displayed a small, but well-selected stock of medicines.

"I have added to this," he continued, "as my gift, this little manual of medicine; and my advice to you is, to take as little of the contents of the box as possible; for," he added playfully, "medicine without a doctor is often worse than no medicine at all. If you find a good doctor in Lakeland, throw away or burn the book as you please."

"I cannot burn the recollection of valuable hints that I have received from you, Dr Newton; and, if we are really sick, I shall doubtless rely more upon what I have already learned than upon the book or the new doctor."

"But you are not going to be sick, I hope," replied Dr. Newton. “A family of healthy boys and girls like yours, brought up to love habits of regularity and order, with little inclination to pamper their appetite, and supplied with the means to insure a comfortable, wholesome living, will not often be visited with any distressing sickness. Do you hear, boys?" he added; "don't think that you can spend your summer evenings out of doors, or go tramping through the wet swamps and woods before sunrise to shoot the poor little birds. And you, Miss Mary, must give up sentimental rambling by moonlight, even if those old forest-haunts bewitch and entice you. Let the sun give the air a good cooking before you take too much of

it."

“It was you, Dr. Newton, that first taught me that—

Early to bed, and early to rise,

Is the way to be healthy, wealthy, and wise.""

"You are duller than I think, Miss Mary," answered Dr. Newton, "if you can see no difference between not going out of doors and not getting up early. It will do

Robert and Henry good to chop a little wood in the wood-house, or work in the barn; and I expect that your talents will be devoted to the preparing a good breakfast when they come in. Some of these days I will come and partake of one with you."

Exclamations of "Will you, indeed?" "Oh! will you?" and "How happy it will make us!" broke from the lips of all.

"Yes, if I live, I will certainly pay you a visit after you are fairly settled; but mind, Miss Mary, I must have good light bread. I must have a chamber, too, to sleep in. I do not like bed-rooms on the ground-floor, especially in that Western country. They cannot be as airy or well-ventilated as upper rooms, and there is always a dampness about them, which comes from the ground. Let the sun shine into your house a part of every day. Be regular in your habits of work, as well as of rest. In eating, drinking, and sleeping, live, as nearly as possible, as you have been accustomed to; and if the sunshine of faith and trust in a good Providence warm your hearts and lighten your path, you will have the best preventives of sickness that I know of."

"Will a contented mind keep off fever and ague?" asked Robert.

"It will help you to bear it patiently; and that is a great gain, if you ever have it. But I am a doctor, not a preacher, Robert; and I tell you plainly, that if you are neither rash nor imprudent, you may live many years, and never suffer from it at all. Perhaps, if it should come, you will find that it is not so very hard, after all, to bear."

"You are an encouraging friend, Dr. Newton," said Mr. Moreton; "and, if all our neighbours viewed this matter of emigration as you do, we might be saved some of those fears and anxieties concerning the future that, I must confess, they sometimes compel me to feel. But

we are fairly committed for the change now, and I have no desire to imitate Lot's wife, and 'look back." "

"Nor do I believe you will have anything to regret, after you are once there. I am no prophet, but I think I can foresee for you all many happy and prosperous days. If wishes could bring them to you, they certainly would be yours. The same hand which has directed you thus far in making the change, will guide you step by step, and all you need will He supply from his abundance. We can ask nothing more or better than his guardianship for you who go, or for ourselves who remain. Now for your plans: what are they?"

"We propose to let Henry and Robert start early next week, with our boxes and chests, for Albany, by water. As soon as we hear of their arrival at that place, we shall join them as expeditiously as possible. Then we all take the canal, and go to Buffalo. From there, across Lake Erie, to whichever port we shall decide to be most desirable - Toledo, Monroe, or Detroit. There shall we fit ourselves out with what are called 'emigrant fixings,' and travel south-west to our place of destination."

"The last part of your journey will be the most fatiguing."

"I am aware of that," said Mrs. Moreton; "and yet I enter into the feelings and anticipations of the children, in thinking that it will be the pleasantest of all; for it will have the charm of novelty, with all its freshness."

"There is something so delightful in the thought of beginning life afresh," said Dr. Newton; "it wakens up in my mind an almost childish enthusiasm, and I really should like to go with you; but my good wife says, nay; and, while her aged parents live, we ought not to give it a moment's thought."

Still later in the evening, Mr. and Mrs. Moreton, with their three elder children, were gathered around the

little blaze that faintly flickered on the hearth. A large part of the furniture belonging to the room had been removed, and it contained only such articles as were absolutely necessary for daily use. Thoughts of the friends who had just parted from them had taken the place of anticipations for the future; and their words of interest and advice were the subject of their thoughts. Mary was the first to speak.

"Father," said she, "why is it that Dr. Newton and uncle Alfred take such different views of life at the West? They have both been there, and are both clearheaded and intelligent men; yet one says we shall prosper and be happy, while the other prophesies misery and sickness!"

"The two men are of different temperaments naturally, Mary. Dr. Newton is active, hopeful, bound down by no habits of luxury which have become necessary to his comfort, and possesses good health. Then he is what is termed a self-made man, and is accustomed to meet and to conquer difficulties. Your uncle is in feeble health, and his home has, ever since his youth, been supplied with all that wealth can purchase. Every want has been met, and every wish gratified; while his love for us makes his fears the greater, lest we should suffer. Look about this room now, and think how differently the two men would regard it. One would think that it had everything in it that we required, because there were tables, carpet, and chairs; the other would deem it unfurnished and comfortless, because the sofa, rocking chairs, and argand lamp were gone."

"But which thinks rightly about it?" asked Robert.

"I have that confidence in the judgment of each which leads me to adopt modified views of both opinions, and endeavour to strike the medium between them. Doubtless, we shall find that in many things their estimates of our pleasures and trials are correct; but it is not neces