he made this
vow: 'If the Lord does bless us at this place, the poor shall taste of
it.' It is to this vow, given with so much faithfulness, and kept with
so much fidelity, that I attribute the great success which my father had
in business. My mother was always looking how she could best keep this
vow. In the days that are gone by, when it was a dreary thing to give
employment to a large number of people, the advice that she gave to her
sons was, 'Do not sell your goods for less than they cost, for it would
ruin you without permanently benefiting any one; but if you can go on
giving employment during the winter, do so, for it is a bad thing for a
working man to go home and hear his children cry for bread, when he has
none to give them.'"

And now with respect to the manner in which Sir Francis Crossley
fulfilled the vow of his mother. "On the 10th of September, 1855," he
said, "I left Quebec early in the morning, for the White Mountains in
the United States. I remember passing through some of the most glorious
scenery I had ever seen. On reaching the hotel at the White Mountains, I
went out alone for an evening walk. It was a beautiful spot. The sun was
just declining behind Mount Washington, amidst all the glorious drapery
of an American sunset. I felt as if I was walking with God. 'What,' said
I, 'shall I render for all His benefits to me? Lord, what wilt Thou have
me to do?' The answer came immediately. It was this: 'It is true thou
canst not bring the many thousands thou has left behind thee in thy
native country, to see this beautiful scenery, but thou canst take such
scenery to them. It is possible so to arrange art and nature that they
shall be within the reach of every working man in Halifax; that he shall
go and take his evening walk there, after his day's toil has been done.'
Well, that seemed to me a glorious thought! I walked home, and my prayer
that night was, that in the morning I might feel that my thought was
justified, and that I might be spared to put it in execution. I slept
soundly that night, and when I awoke my impression was confirmed. On the
10th of September, when I left Quebec for the White Mountains, I had no
more idea of making a park than any one here has of building a city. On
the day I reached home, I felt as convinced that I should carry out my
thought, as I was of my own existence. And from that day to this I have
never flinched from the undertaking, whatever difficulties might arise.
It