all probability we shall gain, as it regards worldly prosperity; and you will have a better and a more independent start in life than you could have here, where there is more competition, and the means of living are more divided. But our own advantage ought not to be the only motive in going, nor our own prosperity the only consideration. We were not placed upon this earth to think of and labour only for ourselves. Whether we try to do it or not, we influence those about us. By saying and doing those things that are right, we can gain a good influence one that shall make others better and happier; and we may thus fulfil the great end and object of life. If we do not mean to aim at this, as well as our own advantage, in removing to another place, it will be better that we stay where we are; for, to succeed fully in our enterprise, we must go as a God-fearing family. The restraints of society will, in a measure, be removed from us, leaving us to make known by our actions how far we are governed by love to God, and by a desire to make his will our law. There must be a unity of purpose with us, each one, as it were, pulling with the rest, and striving to help on the welfare and comfort of the whole. We must go with a determination to be happy to look,' as Jean Paul says, 'on the sunny side of the events and business or life.' Such a disposition will materially lessen our labours and brighten our hearts. If we have discontented longings for our old home (as we may have), we may not let our murmurings and repinings affect the cheerfulness or hopefulness of those who do not suffer from them. Being strangers in a strange land, we must cling to each other for our support and comfort, and seek our pleasure in each other's society, and each of us contribute to the happiness of the whole. I do not doubt, my dear children, that you will fulfil my expectations; but we shall be placed in new circumstances, and cannot now tell what traits of character those circumstances may

develop in us all. It is better, then, to speak of these matters openly and freely, calmly to think of what we relinquish, and with deliberation to form our plans for future action; for 'to forewarn is to forearm ourselves.' Do you all say that we had better go?"

There was now a unanimous vote in favour of a new home, and that home one in the great West. Even the little Alice, scarcely seven years of age, gave her opinion understandingly and seriously; while to the older members of the family the project assumed a more enlarged aspect and bearing, and their personal responsibilities in the removal gave to each of them a feeling of deep interest in its success. As they afterwards kneeled about the family altar, and commended themselves, with all their plans, to the care and guidance of their heavenly Father, there was an earnest desire in every heart for God's direction and blessing; for they felt that it was "not in man who walketh to direct his steps."

"It cousin Susan would but go with us, mother," said Mary, as she sought her room before retiring, "I should desire nothing more."

"We can ask her; and perhaps she may be persuaded to join her fortunes to ours," replied her mother.

The family circle to which we have so unceremoniously introduced our readers, was that of MR. JAMES MORETON. He was the father of eight children, five of whom were boys-the eldest, Robert, being a young man of seventeen. His school education was completed, and for the last year he had been engaged in learning the trade of carriagebuilding; his father deeming it best to gratify a natural taste which he showed for mechanics.

Henry was a year and a half younger than Robert, with more taste for books and quiet employment; but he was practical and persevering, with a ready will and a strong hand for labour. For several years he had been employed,

during the summer months, working with his father upon the farm, and spent the winter in school studies and duties.

Mary was fourteen years of age, of a quick apprehension and tenacious memory. She was like Henry in disposition and character; but she had also inherited from her mother an appreciation and abiding love for the beautiful in nature, which seemed to govern her whole life. It was not romance or sentiment which actuated her, so much as love; and her own affectionate impulses, sanctified by the Spirit of God, led her to view those by whom she was surrounded as objects of loving interest and tender affection. She was a gay, cheerful, bright-eyed young girl, with some personal beauty; but her chief charm was her singular disinterestedness and constant watchfulness for the comfort and good of others. Happy as the bird, her voice would be heard like it, sending forth, now here, now there, sweet notes of joy, as she, with busy hands, but light untroubled heart, was employed in the daily pursuits of domestic life-her cheerful thoughts finding utterance in song so constantly, that her mother was wont to call her "her bird."

Frank was naturally selfish and impatient; yet, over the infirmities of his temper had Mary thrown the mantle of her love: often by a gentle, persuasive word, quieting his ebullitions of passionate anger, and with her sunny smile winning him back to peace with others and with himself. He was an object of solicitude to his parents; yet they could see, year by year, that the domestic influence of home was rendering him more considerate, softening his temper, and making him less hasty in his words and actions.

Charlie was an impetuous, rash little fellow, ten years of age, full of daring, and with a disposition to think quite as much of himself as he ought to think. He was as impulsive in his affections as in his pursuits-often boisterously fond of his mother and sisters, and then again

as noisily devoted to something else. Yet he was yielding and easily guided, for his feelings were tender and quick; and if he did wrong, no one could be more sorry and penitent than he was, as soon as he saw that it was so. Annie was too feeble to enter into his sports or plans; yet, in her dependence, he found a reason why he should constitute himself her protector and guide; and it was into her ear that he poured forth all the plans which his active brain formed, and it was her feeble voice which dissuaded him from undertaking one-tenth part of them; though, in justice to our young friend Charlie's firmness, we ought to state that it was impossible to think twice of most of them without seeing both their impracticability and useless

ness.

Willie was roguish and mischievous, fond of fun to an alarming degree for a boy of eight years of age. Little Alice was his chosen playmate and companion, and his tenderness and love for her had won her heart completely. The family appellation given to this little one, the youngest of them all, was "our curly-head," or "little Miss Curlyhead," from her flaxen ringlets, which were abundant and beautiful; but, from the length of time consumed in their arrangement, a source o. great annoyance to her. She was a capricious little being, full of freaks and fancies, but warm-hearted and loving.

Mr. Moreton had married in early life, and for several years had engaged in mercantile pursuits. Owing to some unsuccessful speculations in business, and a combination of adverse circumstances, he lost much of his property, and decided to gather up the small remainder of what had originally furnished a handsome income, and purchase a farm near his native town, a quiet Massachusetts village. For fourteen years he had lived happily and prosperously there, respected and useful as a citizen and as a man, fulfilling all his duties to his family and to society with faithfulness and success. But his means were limited;

and while there was an abundance produced from the farm for their daily wants, both Mr. and Mrs. Moreton felt that there was nothing beyond this upon which to rely for their children.

Their plan of moving to the West was neither a sudden nor a hasty project. It was the result of much thought and prayerful deliberation, and together they had decided to ascertain the feelings of the children on the subject; and should they find them desirous or willing to go, to remove early in the coming spring. Calling them together, as his custom was, when any affair which concerned the family required action or decision, Mr. Moreton placed it before them; he plainly spoke to them of his own pecuniary affairs and of his prospects, so far as they might be interested in knowing them. He then mentioned their plan of emigration, set its advantages and. disadvantages before them, and told them of its cares as well as of its pleasures, trying to bring the whole matter clearly before their minds.

The result we have laid before our readers, whose interest in the family history, we hope, will lead them to follow us during our detail of their future course.

CHAPTER II.

PREPARATIONS FOR REMOVAL.

Letter from Mr. Moreton.

MICHIGAN, Nov. 9, 18

MY DEAR WIFE AND CHILDREN,-When I left you to start upon what Willie called "my voyage of dis covery," that is, my journey, I thought that by this time I should be able to give you some definite information as to your future home. But I have not yet seen any