hundred young maples and cotton woods yesterday and the day before. On Tuesday and Wednesday I put in over seventy gooseberry trees. I have still two hundred and fifty fruit trees, and four thousand forest trees on hand, which I hope to get planted in the course of a fortnight. The lateness of the spring is in my favour as a tree planter.

I

Our farm has been greatly improved since I left it thirteen years ago, and so has the surrounding country, and I like the place exceedingly. The soil is the richest ever saw. It is as black as soot in the lower lands for many feet deep, and full of vegetable salts; and there is not a stump, or even a pebble, to harass the ploughman. The spade goes through it as a knife goes through a rich cheese. It is, of course, productive in the highest degree. We got at the rate of seven hundred bushels of potatoes to the acre off a patch on the hill-side where the soil is not the richest, while the bottom lands produced last year eighty bushels of Indian corn to the acre. On many parts of our farm the grass grows over six feet high, and on some it grows much higher. The weeds grow still taller, and if you neglect the ground they soon become exceedingly troublesome.

My health, which began to improve from the time I gave up preaching, lecturing, and writing, has continued to get better to the present time. Yesterday morning, for the first time in twenty-two months, I felt the delightful sensation of real hunger, and ate my breakfast with a thorough hearty relish. My dreadful pains are all gone, and it is seldom that I feel even an uneasy sensation; and I am less tired with four or five hours' hard work than I was, six months ago, with half an hour's walk; and I have a prospect, thank God, of a restoration to perfect health. I expect, if spared, to spend the summer here, and in the autumn to recommence my preaching and lecturing labours.

I have not written much since I came here, but I have read freely, and have passed my time very comfortably.

U

I have felt no sense of loneliness, although my family have, till yesterday, remained in the town. I take no part, and feel but little interest, in politics. I seldom see the newspapers, and have but little desire to see them. I prefer reading of a different kind of matter from that with which the political newspapers are full.

May 23rd.-More than seven weeks have passed since I began this letter, and it is still unfinished. It is no use making excuses, else I might tell you how the letter was lost for several weeks in the confusion attending the unpacking of our boxes; how I, by over-exertion, brought on my pains and prostration again; how busy I have been with various kinds of farm work, besides my tree planting; but I will not spend time in making excuses. The truth is, settlers in foreign lands are apt to put off letter writing without just cause, and then to give up the practice altogether; and I have yielded somewhat to the common evil tendency. I must repent, and do better. Well, tree planting is over for the present, and we are busy putting in Indian corn, pumpkins, squash, melons, peas, beans, onions, and all kinds of garden stuff. I have got over my pains again, and am busy digging, planting potatoes, and putting in various kinds of seeds, and attending to the highbred hogs which I brought from England. The country is now green, the trees in leaf and blossom, and all looks very beautiful. The birds are singing on every hand, the mocking birds answering each other in sweet song almost all the day long. The cattle, numbering about a hundred, go out to graze on the open prairie, under the care of a herdboy. The herdboys of different farmers get together and shoot plovers, wild ducks, and medlarks, or dig out wolves from their hiding place, tempted by the promise of a dollar for every one that they kill. I myself go out shooting sometimes. One day I killed two rabbits, and was not out of the house more than fifteen minutes; another day I shot two plovers; and I have thus far had the happiness not to shoot myself or any of my friends.

Most of the fruit trees I have planted seem to be doing well, and we have the prospect of a good orchard. Some of the trees are twelve years old, and one full

grown; yet they appear to be doing as well as any. We have abundance of the best kinds of rhubarb— enough to serve village-all from plants raised by myself from seed fourteen years ago; and we have abundance of currants, from cuttings I planted fifteen years ago. We have a promise of gooseberries from a neighbour whom I supply with rhubarb.

We have had a rather large harvest of losses and trials during the few weeks we have been here. A rattlesnake bit our dog, and he died, poor fellow, after much severe suffering. Eleven out of twelve of a litter of young pigs perished one cold, wet night, in consequence of being shut up in a pen without shelter. A cow sickened and died, and to-day another has gone. A heifer disappeared during a flood caused by a heavy rain, and is no doubt lost. The rains have been very heavy-heavier than they have been since the year after we first came here, and they have washed some of the ploughed lands terribly, carrying off, perhaps, an acre of soil in all, and rendering it necessary to replough some of the ground. Twice the floods, caused by the rainfalls, have moved our bridge, connecting two parts of the farm, obliging us to go round by another bridge to part of our work. Workmen cannot always be got when you want them, even for eighteen or twenty dollars a month besides board and lodging; and when you get men they leave you at inconvenient times. The hogs are troublesome now the dog is dead, and the hens and turkeys, not having been properly brought up, will not lay or sit when you want them. And there are other troubles which I may name when I write next. I ought not, however, to forget to mention that a prairie fire, kindled by a neighbour, and not guarded with sufficient care, crossed our boundary line, and destroyed two stacks (some forty tons) of our hay.

But we have many comforts and blessings. We are all at present well. We have food and raiment in abundance. We have five or six large stacks of hay still left. We have plenty of corn. We carry to town over a hundred pounds of butter a week, for which we get a decent price-about fifteenpence a pound. We have lots of calves fast growing into cows and oxen. There

is no numbering our hogs. And we have poultry prating, cackling, and crowing on all sides. We have got another dog, and a splendid pup to boot. The cattle are getting fat on the fresh prairie grass. We have a supply of good workmen for the present, and we have books, and pens, and paper, and ink; and we have all the blessings of the gospel of peace within reach, and it is our own fault if we are not on happy terms with God, and in joyous relationship with Christ, and all the great, good spirits that crowd this wonderful universe, and attend us daily to minister to our welfare. For myself I am never tried beyond my strength, and I am very often very happy. I should be glad to be at my proper work-preaching, lecturing, writing, and publishing, but for the present God has placed me here, and bidden me farm, and I am content to do His will.

I mourn over the great and terrible loss I sustained seven months ago, changing so strangely my whole state on earth, and causing such strange and distressing feelings of loneliness: but even in this-this indescribable and overpowering affliction-I trust in God. His hand has kept me from sinking. And, sad and sorrowful as I sometimes feel, I cannot murmur. I am satisfied that God does all things well. Sorrowful I am—at times exceedingly so; but God is good. And the object of my dearest affection is at rest, and it will not be long before I shall rest with her, and be happy again in her society for ever. God grant it. I can say no more at present.

I should have written to you again before this, but some weeks after I came upon the farm I began to suffer again from my dreadful stomach pains, which brought me near to the gates of death. I was anxious to put in as many trees as possible, as well as to do as much work of other kinds as I could; and foolishly thinking that the harder I worked the better it would be for my health, I strained myself beyond measure, and my poor frail body gave way. After suffering several weeks, both night and day, from the most excruciating pains, and a dreadful dizziness in my head, on the 12th of June the

blood-vessels in my stomach burst, and I lost three quarts of blood. I thought I was dying, and so did all that were about me; and I gave to my family and friends what I supposed to be my last advice and benedictions. Yet here I am, at work once more, and feeling better, though very weak, than I have felt, except for some short intervals, for many years.

I shall never again attempt so much as I have done, I fancy, either on the farm, in my study, on the platform, or in the pulpit. I shall go on the supposition that I am a frail old man, and so husband my strength that I may, by God's blessing, live long enough to finish a work or two, which I think may be of some use in the present state of the Church and the world.

What changes have taken place since I wrote last! Then we were putting in our oats; now they have been cut and stacked for several weeks. Then we were beginning to plain the ground for our corn; now the corn is twelve feet high, and almost ripe. Pumpkin seed that I put in a day or two before I was taken so ill, has produced other pumpkins six times as large as my head. The trees that were just putting forth their tender buds when I wrote last, have now sent forth shoots six, eight, and ten feet long. The country that was black with dust and ashes from the prairie fires has not only been clad in numberless shades of green, but adorned in succession with countless multitudes of an endless variety of strange and beautiful flowers. Sweet birds, that never used to visit us here, when the country was one unbroken prairie, now that we have got groves and orchards, come in multitudes to delight us with their beautiful plumage and cheer us with their songs. The mocking birds for many weeks were singing all day long. The meadow larks keep repeating their tender and touching notes for months. And now the farms all round this part of the country are rejoicing in crops full twenty or thirty per cent. beyond the average yield, while the merchants are exulting in the growing prosperity of trade. For myself, I have but one concern, and that is that I may pass the remainder of my days in such a way that I may be approved of by God, and useful to my. fellow-men. I could please myself with farming and gardening with this