rave of the past, while the young never weary of chasing some
vague fancy!

He bought a tract of land, cleared it, and opened up a farm. He
planted a large orchard; became the owner of seven horses and all the
implements necessary to farming.

By his own industry and perseverance he had now acquired a neat little
home; on his farm he raised enough produce for the consumption of his
family, and still there was a large quantity left for the market.
Apples, potatoes, wheat, corn, and other commodities brought him
handsome returns.

On this farm were born five children, four of whom lived to adult age.
The oldest child, Luther Morgan, was born October 10, 1831. The second
child, Mary Catharine, was born in 1833. The third, George Washington,
was born in 1835. The fourth, Elizabeth, was born in 1837. And the
fifth and last child was born on the night of September 4, 1839, when,
also, the mother and child died.

This sad event filled a hitherto happy home with gloom, and bowed a
strong heart with grief. Anderson was a man possessed of a very tender
nature, though he was manly and resolute. His heart was fixed upon his
wife, and this sad providence smote him heavily.

During all these years, from his youth up, he had been very profane.
He knew no Sabbath, worshipped no God, and was himself the highest
law. He was filled with a grand religious sentiment, and only needed
the grace of God to bring it out, and the love of God to show him
where he stood.

The object of his youthful affection was gone. The faithful woman who
had walked for nineteen years by his side was no more; her eyes were
closed to mortal things, and she had ceased to be. He followed her
body to the grave, and there dropped a silent tear for her to whom he
had given his heart. It was the first funeral of anyone related to
him, and its lessons were sharply cut into his heart.

He returned to a desolate home, where the sad faces of motherless
children told that one whom they loved, and who had made home happy,
was gone.

His mind now turned to religious matters. He began to think of the
home beyond, of Jesus, who died for sinners, and wondered if he would
ever be able to see the loved one beyond the tide of death. As he
dreamed of immortality, longed for heaven, and wondered if Jesus were
his Saviour, he was filled with a deep sense of sin. He felt more
deeply a sense of sin. He felt more and more that he was unworthy of
the Saviour's love; and if he ha