President Young spoke as though he felt: "Now, God's people are free," and the way of their deliverance had been wrought out. That evening Captain ---- and his company arrived; dusty and weary, too late for the excellent meetings and the day of sweet rest enjoyed by the Widow and her family. Once more, in silver tones, rang through Joseph's ears. "Father ----, I will beat you to the Valley, and will ask no help from you either!" J. F. S. A REMARKABLE LIFE. BY "HOMESPUN". CHAPTER I. Many of the noblest lives have been lived in obscurity and in poverty. Nobility and virtue are never dependent upon surroundings. And when you have read the simple little chronicle which I am about to relate, I think you will agree with me that even though humble and retiring, the subject of this sketch was one of nature's own heroines. In a little cottage in Bravon, Lees-Mersem, England, lived an old lady named Harris. She was given to study although very meagrely educated. She was feeble and sat a great deal of her time poring over her Bible. One day her granddaughter came to visit her, bringing her little daughter, Mary, with her. The old lady had been reading her Bible, and as her daughter came in she said: "My dear, I have been reading some of the great prophecies concerning the last days, and I feel sure that either you or yours will live to see many of them fulfilled." "Not so, grandmother," answered the woman, whose name was Mrs. Dunster, "thou wast always visionary; put by such thoughts. Our religion's good enough for the like of us." The old lady arose, unheeding her granddaughter's warm reply, and placing her hands on the little girl's head, said solemnly: "Here's Mary; she shall grow up and wander away from you all and break her bread in different nations." The solemnity of her great-grandmother's manner and the peculiar spirit that accompanied the words made a vivid impression on the little girl's mind. How well that strange prophecy has been fulfilled you and I, my reader, can tell hereafter. The little girl, whose name was Mary Dunster, and who was born in Lympne, Kent, December 26, 1818, grew up and when sixteen years of age was asked in marriage by William Chittenden, who was a laborer on an adjoining farm. She did not feel very willing, but the young man urged her so warmly that she hesitated before refusing him. She had always had an irresistible desire to go to America, where many emigrants were then going from England. At last she consented to be his wife on one condition: that he would take her to America. Very bravely promised the lover, but not until forty-two years afterwards did he fulfill that promise. After they were married they settled down to work and lived, William as farm laborer, in Lympne for four years. Two children were born to them in this place, Mary Ann, born June 15, 1836, and Henry, born August 18, 1838.