arts'
content, went to partake of a dinner which the family had provided
for them in a large farm house. Here they sang, and laughed, and
told stories till about eight o'clock in the evening, when they
returned by railway to Hamburg, in a special train which the
railroad directors ordered, free of expense, out of respect for
Henry. The railroad was behind Henry's house, and as the workmen
passed, they waved their hats and cheered him and the family till
they were out of hearing.

The picture I had so much admired was a copy of this very picture
which the workmen had presented. The original was hung up in Henry's
drawing room, as his most valuable possession. No wonder his
daughter felt proud of that picture, and loved to show her copy of
it to her friends. Near it hung a likeness of his dear Agatha. She
was very beautiful. It was a pleasant thing to hear the daughter
talk of her father and mother.

Thus did Henry live a useful, honorable, and happy life--the natural
result of his industry, perseverance, uprightness, and true
benevolence. Like Ben Adhem, he had shown his love to God by his
love to man.

One of Henry's sons had come to this country, to set up a cane and
whalebone factory in New York. The father had aided him as far as he
thought best, but urged him to depend as far as possible upon his
own industry and ability.

This son followed his father's example, and was very successful; but
was obliged, on account of the bad effects of our climate upon his
health, to return to his native land. The father, who was anxious to
visit the United States, and wished much to see his daughter again,
who was particularly dear to him, determined to come, for a while,
in his son's place. Henry thought also that his health, which began
to fail, might be benefited by a sea voyage.

One reason why he wished much to visit America was, that he might
see, with his own eyes, the position of the laboring classes in the
Free States. Of the Slave States he never could think with patience.
His daughter told me that the only time when she had seen her father
lose his self-command, was when a gentleman, just returned from the
West Indies, had defended slavery, and had said that the negroes
were only fit to be slaves. Henry's anger was irrepressible, and,
although it was at his own table, and he was remarkable for his
hospitality and politeness, he could not help showing his
indignation.

Nothing could exceed his delight at what he