out and rolled in yellow ringlets across the
floor.

The Reverend Doctor Pilsbury arose in a more decorous silence. He had
listened approvingly, admiringly, he might say even reverently, to the
preceding speaker. But although his distinguished friend had, with his
usual modesty, made light of his own services and those of his charming
family, he, the speaker, had not risen to sing his praises. No; it
was not in this Hall, projected by his foresight and raised by his
liberality; in this town, called into existence by his energy and
stamped by his attributes; in this county, developed by his genius and
sustained by his capital; ay, in this very State whose grandeur was made
possible by such giants as he,--it was not in any of these places that
it was necessary to praise Daniel Harcourt, or that a panegyric of him
would be more than idle repetition. Nor would he, as that distinguished
man had suggested, enlarge upon the social, moral, and religious
benefits of the improvement they were now celebrating. It was written
on the happy, innocent faces, in the festive garb, in the decorous
demeanor, in the intelligent eyes that sparkled around him, in the
presence of those of his parishioners whom he could meet as freely here
to-day as in his own church on Sunday. What then could he say? What then
was there to say? Perhaps he should say nothing if it were not for
the presence of the young before him.--He stopped and fixed his eyes
paternally on the youthful Johnny Billings, who with a half dozen
other Sunday-school scholars had been marshaled before the reverend
speaker.--And what was to be the lesson THEY were to learn from it? They
had heard what had been achieved by labor, enterprise, and diligence.
Perhaps they would believe, and naturally too, that what labor,
enterprise, and diligence had done could be done again. But was that
all? Was there nothing behind these qualities--which, after all, were
within the reach of every one here? Had they ever thought that back
of every pioneer, every explorer, every pathfinder, every founder and
creator, there was still another? There was no terra incognita so rare
as to be unknown to one; no wilderness so remote as to be beyond a
greater ken than theirs; no waste so trackless but that one had already
passed that way! Did they ever reflect that when the dull sea ebbed and
flowed in the tules over the very spot where they were now standing, who
it was that also foresaw, conceived, and orda