of the most exciting events in his country's history. His imagination had been quickened, and his heart warmed, by the adventures and gallantries of fiction, and his intellect enriched by history. And some of his earliest efforts with the pen, as well as the testimony of his associates, show that his mind and heart were ennobled by the lessons, if not by the spirit and power, of religion. What, now, would have been the effect of what is called a regular course of education? Would it have perverted him, as it has thousands? or would it have made him instrumental of greater good in the cause of God? Would it have performed its appropriate work, that of disciplining, enlarging, and furnishing the mind, leaving unimpaired by the process its natural energies, its sense of self-dependence as to man, and its sense of dependence and accountability as to God? or would it have placed him in the crowded ranks of those who are content to share in the honor of repeating the twaddle, true or false, which passes for truth in the school or sect which has "made them what they are"? We think it would have been difficult to pervert him; but where so many who have been regarded as highly promising have been marred by the operation, he would have been in great danger. He might have become externally a better subject for the artist; but we doubt if he would have been a better subject to be used as an instrument of Providence. There are those who survive the regular course uninjured. There are those who are benefited by it so far as to be raised to a level with people of ordinary capacity, which they never could attain without special aid. And there is a third class, who are a stereotype representation of what the course makes them if they raise a fellow-man out of the mire, they never get him nearer to heaven than the school where they were educated.

Whatever might have been the result of any established course of education, in the case of William Miller, such a course was beyond his reach: he was deprived of the benefit, he has escaped the perversion. Let us be satisfied. But still we must record the fact, that it would have been extremely gratifying, if something of the kind could have been placed at his command.

He desired it. He longed for it with an intensity of feeling that approached to agony. He pondered the question over and over, whether it was possible to accomplish what appeared to him to be not only a desirable gratification and honor, but almost essential to his exist

ence.

It should be noticed, however, that his circumstances became somewhat relieved as he advanced in years. The log house had given place to a comfortable frame house; and, in this, William had a room he was permitted to call his own. He had means to provide himself with a new book, occasionally, and with candles to read at night, so that he could enjoy his chosen luxury, during his leisure hours, in comparative comfort.

It was on one of those times of leisure that an incident occurred which marked a new era in his history, though it did not introduce fully such an era as he desired.

There was a medical gentleman in the vicinity of his residence, by the name of Smith, who possessed an ample fortune, and was known to be very liberal. In the plans which had passed through the mind of William, to secure the means of maturing his education, he had thought of Dr. Smith. At any rate, it could do no harm to apply to him. The plan was carried so far as to write a letter, setting forth to that gentleman his intense desires, his want of means to gratify them, his hopes and his prospects, if successful.

The letter was nearly ready to be sent to its destination, when William's father entered the room, which we may properly call his son's study. Perhaps it had not occurred to the son to consult his father in the matter; and to have it come to his notice in so unexpected a manner somewhat disturbed him for the moment. But there was the letter in his father's presence. He took it, and read it. It affected him deeply. For the first time, he seemed to feel his worldly condition to be uncomfortable, on his son's account. He wanted to be rich then, for the gratification of his son, more than for any other human being. There were the irrepressible yearnings of his first-born, which he had treated in their childish development as an annoyance, now spread out in manly

but impassioned pleadings to a comparative stranger to afford him help! There were plans and hopes for the future, marked by an exhibition of judgment and honor that could not fail of commanding attention! All that was tender in that father's heart, all that was generous in the soldier, and all that could make him ambitious of a worthy successor, was moved by that letter. The tears fell, and words of sympathy were spoken; but the plan was impossible.

The letter of William was never sent. It had the effect, however, of changing his father's course towards him, so that he was rather encouraged than hindered in his favorite pursuits.

By this time, the natural genius and attainments of young William Miller had distinguished him among his associates. To the young folks, he became a sort of scribbler-general. If any one wanted "verses made," a letter to send, some ornamental and symbolic design to be interpreted by "the tender passion," or anything which required extra taste and fancy in the use of the pen, it was pretty sure to be planned, if not executed. by him.

Some of these first-fruits of his genius are still in existence; and, although it requires no critic to discover that he had never received lessons of any of the " great masters," still these productions would compare very favorably with similar efforts by those whose advantages have been far superior to his.

The facts connected with the early life of Mr. William Miller, and the incidents in his personal history, now spread before the readers of this work, will enable them to see, in the boy, a type of the future man. The most embarrassing circumstances of his condition could not master his perseverance. And if he could not accomplish all he desired to, the success which attended his efforts, in spite of great discouragements, was truly surprising. The position he had won opened to him a fairer prospect, though still surrounded with serious dangers. But the features of the next step in his history must be the subject of another chapter.

CHAPTER II.

MARRIAGE AND PUBLIC LIFE.

THE successful military operations in behalf of the northern colonies of our country resulted, at the close of the Revolutionary War, in opening the whole territory along the northern frontier of the New England States and New York, for the occupancy of the immigrant; and gave security in prosecuting the business of peaceful life. The desire of possessing a home in this new, healthy, and fertile region, which led so many families from western Massachusetts - the Miller family among them-induced other families from the Atlantic settlements, particularly in Rhode Island and Connecticut, to try their fortunes in the same region.

Among the families which came from Connecticut about the time that the Miller family came from Pittsfield, there was one by the name of Smith. This family settled in Poultney, Vermont, some half a dozen miles from the residence of Mr. Miller. The Smiths were related to families in the Miller neighborhood, and this brought the members of the two families into each other's society. It was in this way that the subject of this memoir first met with Miss Lucy Smith, a young woman of about his own age, who afterwards became his wife.

There certainly is no relation which two human beings can sustain to each other, on which their mutual welfare so much depends, as that of husband and wife. To a great extent, their history, and that of their children, are determined by the fitness of the parties for each other, and the manner in which the relation is sustained. If the wisdom and goodness of God are seen in the institution of marriage, these attributes are quite as manifest in the philosophical, inartificial, and religious manner in which he requires the institution to be honored. We

shall see, by and by, that the importance of the duties growing out of this relation was a principal consideration in fixing Mr. Miller's purpose to become a Christian.

As Mrs. Lucy Miller is now living, all that might be said to her praise may not be said here. It is sufficient to state, that she was remarkably endowed, by nature and by her industrial and economical habits, to make domestic life highly agreeable, and to favor Mr. Miller's promotion and success in the departments of public life in which he was called to move. And few men could be better adapted to enjoy, or better qualified to honor, the office of a husband, than Mr. Miller. His warm-hearted and tireless sociability gave itself full play in the domestic circle; and his confidence was unbounded towards those whom he had decided to be worthy of it. The discernment which led Miss Smith to accept the offer of his hand was never called in question by a disappointment of her expectations. They were united in marriage June 29th, 1803.

By comparing dates, it will be seen that the subject of this memoir had passed his minority but a few months when this important change in his condition in life took place. Shortly afterwards, the new-made family settled in Poultney, Vermont, where the young wife's parents resided.

To the population generally, Mr. Miller was a stranger; and to those who knew him as the fortunate husband of one of the promising young ladies of the village, nothing very remarkable appeared in him, to attract their attention. In fact, he does not appear to have been, at that time, or during his subsequent life, either moved by external show in others, or led to make the least show to produce an effect on others. What was

solid and unaffectedly natural and true was all he valued, or wished others to value, as worthy of their attention. He had been distinguished by no other public honors, we believe, prior to his leaving Low Hampton, but that of being promoted to the always dignified office of serjeant in the militia. However, he continued in Poultney but a short time before it began to be perceived that his natural genius would make itself felt, if it did not seek to make itself seen.