a very nice man, who had sent her to school, and she could now read the Bible and the newspaper. No one of the family but Lucy took to learning; in fact, they did not know a letter of the alphabet." The traveller now recollected his bundle of books, and brought it from his chaisebox into the house. On examining it he found that the assortment was such, as to form a pretty little library for Miss Lucy. Taking out his pencil, he wrote a note in one of the books to Deacon Thompson, presenting the whole of them to Miss Lucy Danforth, then under his care, requesting him to see that she was not deprived of them by any one. The horse being shod, Jim was

hired to set off to the Deacon's with the bundle-the poor fellow not knowing that he was carrying a present to his sister. The traveller continued his journey, and the incident soon passed from his mind, amid the pleasures and cares of the world:

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Some few years after this event, the traveller was called to see his friends on the same route. As he passed the site of old Danforth's blacksmith shop, he saw that new buildings had been erected; and he internally exclaimed, thinking that the place had passed into the hands of some new proprietor, so pass away the wicked." The traveller had proceeded but a mile or two, when he saw that a thunder-cloud hung on his rear, and that it was time for him to seek a shelter. As he was driving by a good looking farm-house, he saw a venerable gentleman standing at the door, apparently watching, with great anxiety, the approaching tornado. Bowing to the traveller,

he invited him to put his horse in the barn, or under the shed, and to tarry with him until the storm should have passed over. The invitation was gratefully accepted. The shower was preceded by a "mighty wind." While this was passing over, the good old man remained quiet; but so soon as the thunder began to roar, he seemed much agitated. He was sitting in the middle of the room, at a table, on which was placed an open Bible, from which he read a few verses, as a sort of propitiatory offering to the "God who speaketh in the thunder, and rideth upon the wings of the wind." Seeing the traveller perfectly unmoved, and even enjoying the sublimity of the scene, the old man lifting up his pale face, inquired, "if he did not feel terrified at such a demonstration of God's wrath?" "No," was the reply; "I do not consider it such a demonstration, but rather a proof of his goodness. This phenomenon is resolved to causes as natural as the flowing of the brook which bubbles by your door; and probably more have been drowned in its lovely waters, than have ever been killed by lightning within fifty miles of you." After a pause, the old man said, he believed that was true; and mentioned several who had been drowned in his neighborhood, but could think of but one who had been killed by lightning. The traveller remarked, that God was never angry; it was only a human phrase. He sometimes punished, in justice, but not so often by fire as by pestilence. The very thunder and lightning, he added, was sent for our benefit, as it was a great purifier of the air. "Well, that is true," said the old man. The

traveller continued, and explained the phenomena of the lightning-flash and the thunder-clap, and before the storm had subsided, the veteran seemed calm, and wrapt in a course of reasoning with himself upon the subject. In turning over the leaves of the Bible, the traveller saw on the blank leaf between the Old and New Testaments, the name of James Thompson, and his family record. The thought of Lucy Danforth came across his mind, but he was almost afraid to inquire after her. At length, however, he asked, "Who now occupies the place where Danforth, the blacksmith, was living some six or seven years ago?" The reply was, "Danforth himself and his family." "You must be a stranger in these parts," said the Deacon, "if you have never heard of the great change in the life of the blacksmith down there." traveller having assured the Deacon that he was indeed a stranger, listened to the Deacon's recital with great interest.

The

The old man commenced with the shoeing of the noble horse-(indeed he was truly so)-and of the gift of the stranger to the child. All was given with minuteness, and the account brought to his recollection many remarks he had made at the time, which had before escaped his memory. The Deacon said, "I received the books, with this pencil note," (which he had preserved,) "for Lucy Danforth." The traveller recognised his own hand, and faintly inquired if Lucy was yet living. "O, yes," was the reply; "she is to be married at my house, in a few days, to Doctor Moore, a very likely man. She is a fine

child, and has been the making of the whole family. Soon after the stranger, as he signed himself, gave her the books, she visited her father, and read some of the tales to him; he was a man of strong mind, notwithstanding his ignorance; and from the pride he felt that his daughter was able to read, and from his gratitude to the stranger, for he had always said that he had treated his family like a prince, he was induced to hear Lucy read a story or two. He declared that he did, upon his soul and honor, like the books. 'Jim,' and the other boys, sat grinning by her side, as she was reading, and half hinted, that they, too, should like to know how to read. She caught the hint, and began to teach them. The father also said that he should be glad to read, if nobody should know that he was schooling of it in his old age.' Silently they all began-and Lucy came once every day to impart to them a portion of her little store of knowledge, without, however, making it known to the neighbors, whose laughs and sneers they feared. She continued in this course until all could read the Bible, with a fair understanding of its contents. She did not stop here; they were taught to write as well as to read. The first development of this fact was on an occasion of the blacksmith's buying a horse and wagon of one of his neighbors. A part of the purchase-money was paid down, and a part was to be paid in blacksmith's work; the due-bill for the work was written by squire K, of whom the purchase was made; and when he was about to call on Danforth to make his mark, as formerly, the old man said, 'Squire,

you need not trouble yourself to write my name;' and, taking up the pen, wrote William Danforth in a bold and fair hand. This was strange, and no one could explain the mystery. The next winter, when the town school was opened, Danforth's boys attended on the first day. The teacher, on the usual examination, found them among the first in his school. This was another miracle. Shortly after this, the keeper of the store stated, that for a whole year he had sold the Danforths but one jug of rum, and that was in haying time; and afterwards, when he stopped to have his horse shod, he asked for something to drink, and the jug was produced, with scarcely the diminution of a gill from its original contents. A meetinghouse was built in the parish, and old Danforth bid high for a large pew; this so delighted and wonder-struck all, that no one bid over him. His whole family came to hear the gospel preached, in neat and cleanly apparel, and were attentive to the preacher. The little child, who had received its dose of rum and sugar, died; and the clergyman, who was only a transient preacher, attended the funeral, and made some judicious observations to the parents, and the brothers and sisters. Lucy was still the guardian angel of the family; she came every day, while this feeling of bereavement was upon her kindred, and read some appropriate story from the books she had, or from such as she obtained from the library which had been founded in the parish, to which she had access. The temper of her father had been softened, and every seed now sown was on good ground. From an attendant