called on to offer up the concluding prayer. He was a local Methodist preacher, who lived in the near neighborhood, a man of worth and exemplary piety. His prayer was appropriate and powerful. After the congregation was dismissed, Col. M. tarried a little, to give opportunity to any of the ministers, who were so disposed, to address to him a word of counsel or exhortation; but, strange to tell, they all put off to their several homes, without making the attempt, or even noticing the opportunity. This was wholly out of the question. There is a point beyond which patience itself ceases to be a virtue. So the colonel resolved, that, as the Presbyterians were so inexcusably and shamefully negligent, he would go right down to Judge Shattuck, the Methodist preacher; for surely the man who had just offered up such a prayer would be glad to converse with him about the state of his soul. So off he started, through the darkness, blundering along, and finally reached the house. He knocked at the door. It was opened by Judge Shattuck, who received him pleasantly, and helped him to a chair. The colonel sat down in silence, hoping that the judge would introduce the desired conversation. The judge, however, started off into a lively discussion of the condition of the Brandon Bank; the amount of specie in its vaults, compared with its circulation; and the probabilities of its ever being able to meet its liabilities, &c., &c. The colonel was amazed that a minister of the gospel could expatiate so fluently on such themes, when here a soul is before him in perishing need of religious instruction. "But surely he will be through presently," was his comforting reflection, "and then the other subject will come up." And, sure enough,

before long, the judge came to a pause, though it was but a short one, when off he dashed in another direction, discoursing earnestly about the whigs and the democrats; the relative strength of the two great political parties in the state at large; and which was likely to have a controlling influence in the legislature, at its approaching session. "This will never do," thought the colonel; "I must introduce the subject of religion myself. Judge Shattuck, that was a very solemn meeting to-night." "Yes," said Shattuck, rising to his feet; "when you wish to lie down, there is a bed. Good night." And out he went, shutting the door after him. The colonel was astounded. Presently he heard the voice of singing. The family were at worship in another room, to which he was not invited. "Well, well," thought the colonel," enough is enough. I see how the matter stands. If I wait for preachers, Presbyterian or Methodist, to pull me out of the horrible pit, I'm gone." So down he went on his knees, right there in the room, and told the Lord that if He would let him begin now, just with what "information" he had, he would flee from the wrath to come, and strive to enter in at the strait gate, and call for help from heaven, through the Lord Jesus Christ, as long as life should endure.

I never had an opportunity of conversing with Judge Shattuck on this subject; but there is no doubt that he understood the colonel's case fully, and treated it wisely; for he was a very shrewd and judicious man. Most likely he had often tried before to bring the colonel's mind to the subject of religion, when he had utterly refused to hear, and now thought it best to let him wrestle with his awakened conscience, without

the intermeddling of a third party. In the above sample of their conversation, I pretend not to give accurately the very words used by Judge Shattuck. The narrative is strictly accurate in this-that it gives a fair specimen of the dexterous manner in which the judge played off from the main question, which the anxious sinner wished to have taken up, and abruptly left him alone, with his conscience and his God. The next morning, we all met at the church. The house was crowded, and the great Master of assemblies was there. In a little time, an opportunity was given to those who were resolved to forsake the ways of sin and follow the Savior, to manifest their determination, by coming forward, in the presence of the church, that prayer might be offered up in their behalf, and suitable instructions given. No sooner was the invitation published, than from the far end of the house, over benches, and blocks, and other obstructions, came the colonel, tears streaming over both his cheeks; and down he knelt, among many others. After a solemn pause, he lifted up his voice in prayer; and the depth of his prostration of soul, the reverence expressed for the high and holy One, the wide range of his desires, the propriety, pathos, and power of his prayer, forcibly reminded me of his venerable father, whom I had heard pray so many years ago. The associations were affecting and overwhelming. I bowed my head amongst them there, to weep with those that wept, and rejoice with those that did rejoice.

I will only add, further, that, during this interesting meeting, some twelve or fourteen gentlemen—a part of them were the heads of families; all of them were in the prime of life-commenced praying publicly in the prayer meetings of the church.

As for the colonel, my esteem for him grew with my acquaintance; and when I returned to Missouri, I wrote him a fraternal letter, as a memorial of friendship. And when I had told him how the Lord had graciously preserved my family during my absence, and desired him to remember me to the many dear friends I had left in Mississippi, and signed my name to the letter, I wrote on the left-hand side of the page, opposite my name, "Col. John M'Clellan," making a heavy score under John. I then folded the letter, and directed it thus: "Col. John M'Clellan, Carrollton, Mississippi," again emphasizing the John with a heavy score. I knew that when the colonel received it, he would understand it all, and be satisfied that in my letter, at least, I had not called him "Jo."

RED RIVER.

In the month of January, 1845, I made my first visit to the people on Red River. Some of my acquaintances had emigrated to that region, and had written to me, stating that a number of members and friends of the Presbyterian church were already in that country; and that if some of our ministers could go and labor for a time among them, their hearts would be strengthened and encouraged, infant churches might be organized, and a foundation laid for extensive permanent good.

On landing at Shreveport, about seven hundred miles above New Orleans, I was astonished to learn that the American settlements on Red River were already so extensive. While I was there, a steamboat, loaded with cotton, came down from a point some four hundred miles higher up on the river; and the oldest merchants in Shreveport—that is, those who had been there seven or eight years were expressing their amazement at the rapidity with which the American settlements were extending west.

I was led to the reflection, that we should look with much indulgence on the mistakes of English travellers, and travellers from the eastern sections of our own country, concerning the condition of the west, when we find that its growth and advancement outstrip the