that "Mr. Dorr was not even allowed a Bible in his cell." Some sentimental and piously-inclined member of his oratory uttered audibly the expression, that "it was too dd bad." In looking over your last volume, I noticed that you allude to the classical affinities of one of your contributors with a spice of fun. You think that he would prefer a visit to Baiæ to a jaunt to Saratoga. Your friend is not peculiar in this. Who does not, at times, wish that he might have lived in the olden time? We cannot describe how delightful it would have been to have revelled in the bowers of Eden, with Eve, the first and lovliest of women, at our side: to have tended sheep on the green hill-sides of the land of Lot and Abraham: to have gazed on the majestic beauty of Pharaoh's daughter, or to have witnessed the sweet life of sweet Ruth: to have visited the Shunamite widow, and heard from her own lips concerning the good man, Elisha, who restored her child to life and to her arms: to have listened to the music of the fair improvisatrice, Mi. riam, or to have been stirred by the duett of Barak and Deborah to the martial accompaniment of the trumpet and tamborine. How sublime to have witnessed the destruction of Pharaoh's host, or started back at the mysterious annihilation of the army of Sennacherib: to have walked among the gilded pillars of Solomon's temple: to have been among Paul's auditory at Mars's Hill, or been amazed at his splendid eloquence before Agrippa: above all, to have stood among the lilies of the field," and in sight of the "city set upon a hill," while Christ was in godlike accents preaching on the Mount. The glory of such dreams is oppressive to the fancy. Then think of hearing Homer chant his immortal rhapsodies at the corners of the streets, Demosthenes shake with his voice of thunder the judges of Athens, Cicero charm people and senate with the sonorous flow of his eloquence: of listening to the table-talk of Catullus, and the brilliant conversation of the well-informed Pliny: of observing the Corinthian Lais throw the spell of her beauty around philosophers; or of gazing with religious awe upon the devoted wife of Paetus. Then to imagine you, Mary, a Lady Rowena, whose stately loveliness should bring a thousand knights to your feet; and me, knight-errant, your knight-errant, with the strength and courage of an Ivanhoe, ready to do battle day and year in your service, or kiss with chivalrous courtesy your hand. Who would not love to have wandered in the groves of the Academy, and heard the "divine Plato" discourse his almost-Christian philosophy Who would not yearn to have been a witness of the fearful battles of Thermo. pylae, Salamis, Issus. Marathon, wherein a handful of Greeks overthrew the tumultuous hosts of Persia? O, to have been at the levees of Augustus, and invited to meet Virgil, Mæcenas, and Horace. O, to have rambled through the vales of Arcadia, or along the banks of the Meander: to have culled the roses of Pæstum, or to have been lulled asleep by the murmurs of the bees of Hybla and Hymettus: to have lingered by the cascades of the Anio, or watched stately swans floating down the Caijster! These are but vagrant touches from a panorama of infinite variety; isolated sketches from the picture which fills the world of the past; fragments from an eternal circle of beauty. Who would not love to have lived in the Olden Time? Not long since there stood upon the banks of the Schoharie Kill, a half-finished church, with a few low, Dutch houses near by, whose occupants were tillers of the ground. Primeval forests, cheifly of hemlock, covered the two great ridges of the Kaatsbregs, which reared their lofty summits on both sides of the valley. The people assembled on every third Sunday, to listen to their spiritual guide who also had the pastoral charge of two neighboring churches, several miles distant. The paucity of their num bers, together with the want of pecuniary ability, prevented regular worship. Such was the condition of the place and people, when the subject of this brief sketch came there to take up his abode. Born October 30th, 1790, at Stephentown, Rensselaer county, of parents who were celebrated for nothing more than honest and industrious habits, Mr. Pratt passed his boyhood amid influences well adapted to call forth the energy of character and persevering industry of which he is now so bright an example. From his parents, he learned the important lesson, that economy and labor are necessary to prosperity, and that whoever aims at wealth and station, may expect to gain them rather by industry and frugality than by fortunate speculation. He accordingly, without any show of parsimoniousness, studied economy from a boy. At an early age, he learned the saddler's trade and was successful, while an apprentice, in forming a small nucleus as capital, to which he afterwards made constant additions by laboring, first as a journeyman for his father and brother, and afterwards for himself, when his income became considerable. He added to this, the business of a merchant, and at the same time carried on successfully the tanner's trade, in company with a brother. The great success which has crowned his labors, both in perfecting the art of tanning leather and the accomplishment of so large an amount of business in that line, has made him preeminent as a mechanic. It was for the purpose of extending his business as a tanner, and availing himself of the most commodious position, that Mr. Pratt, in 1824, removed from Lexington, Greene county, where he buried his parents, to the valley of the Kaatsbergs. One of the first objects which caught the attention of Mr. Pratt was the church in the wilderness. It was speedily rebuilt, and a minister was procured to preach there regularly every Sunday instead of every third week. New life seemed to infuse itself through the place. The old residents began to feel a new impulse urging them forward to active duties; a young and thrifty village sprung up as it were in a day, creating as much surprise among the former inhabitants as is felt at the present moment by those who have always lived in sight of the spot where the magic city of Lawrence, with its ten thousand inhabitants, busy with the manifold duties of life, has but just sprung into existence. Hundreds of acres of those mountain heinlocks soon fell before the hand of industry, both to subserve the processes of tanning and to yield the soil to the hand of culture. We will here give, in Mr. Pratt's own language, a brief account of his great tannery, by means of which the wilderness has been made to blossom as the rose. After some appropriate preliminary remarks, in a communication addressed to the Secretary of the American Institute, he says: "I shall proceed without further digression, to give you a succinct historical and statistical account of my tannery, which I may, I hope, without incurring the charge of egotism or vanity, be allowed to say has been conducted with sufficient energy and skill to realize for me a competency, while it has been the means of spreading comfort and plenty to all directly or indirectly connected with its operations. "My tannery is an immense wooden building, 530 feet in length, 43 feet in breadth, and two stories and a half high. Within this area are contained 300 vats, tanning over 60,000 sides a year, with conductors to draw the liquor to the pump, affording about 46,000 cubic feet of room for tanning purposes. A large wing, 40 feet by 80, extending over the stream, contains twelve leaches. six of them furnished with copper heaters, containing about 12,000 feet, aud also the bark loft, through which, in the course of the year, passes more than 6,000 cords of bark. The mills through which it is ground are capable of grinding over a cord of bark per hour; and it has connected with it a pump of sufficient capacity to deliver 1,000 feet of ooze, or water charged with tanning, in thirty minutes. The beam-house contains thirty vats, equivalent to 7,640 cubic feet. It has connected with it three hide-mills for softening the dry Spanish hides, and two rolling machines, capable of rolling 500 sides of leather per day. Outside of the building, but cennected with the beam-house by an underground communication, are eight stone sweat-pits, with pointed arches and flues. The pits are of the most approved size, being in area 10 feet by 14, and in depth 8 feet, with a spring of water at one corner. "Since I first commenced business, the gain of weight in con |