descendants.

At the time of which we write, no city fashions had found their way to
that remote spot. Its inhabitants were simple-hearted, pious, and
contented to live as their forefathers had done; and the place seemed
like a quiet little world within itself. None of the gross vices
always to be found in large communities were practised there. On the
Sabbath-day, when its only bell sent its voice distinctly over the
valley, the humble dwellers met in the single church, not only bound
together by the tie of human brotherhood, but by the sweeter ties of
Christian charity, to hear the word of God and perform the work of
prayer and praise.

Just at the end of the long street in this quiet village stood a
cottage, which, although very rudely built, attracted the attention of
the passers-by from the extreme neatness and order, those sure
attendants of the pious poor, which reigned around it. In winter it
looked snug beneath its coating of snow; in summer very beautiful,
glistening, as it then did, in all its fragrant adornment of
jessamine, honeysuckle, and sweet-brier.

But if its exterior was attractive, the family life within was much
more so. True piety and grace were found beneath that modest roof,
most truly illustrating the truth, that the high and lofty One that
inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy, who dwelleth in the high and
holy place, dwelleth with _him also_ that is of a contrite and humble
spirit.

For many years this cottage had been occupied by a watchmaker, a
German, who left his own country in early manhood, and came to the