Lorenzo Dow, whose name is still fresh in the minds of many of the older inhabitants, it is said, was on his way to preach in South Carolina, when underneath an old spruce tree he overtook a colored lad who was blowing a large tin horn, and could send forth a blast with rise and swell and cadence which waked the echoes of the distant hills. Calling aside the blower, Dow said to him: "What's your name?" "My name? Gabriel, sir," said the brother in ebony. "Well Gabriel, have you been to Church Hill?" "Yes, massa, I'se been dar muny a time." "Do you remember a big spruce pine tree on the hill?" "Yes, massa, I know dat pine tree." "Did you know that Lorenzo Dow had been appointed to preach under that tree to-morrow?" "O yes, massa; everybody knows dat." "Well, Gabriel, I am Lorenzo Dow, and if you'll take your horn and go to-morrow morning and climb up in that pine tree and hide yourself among the branches before the people begin to gather, and wait there till I call your name, and then blow such a blast with your horn as I heard you blow a minute ago, I'll give you a dollar. Will you do it, Gabriel?" "Yes, massa, I takes dat dollar." Gabriel, like Zacheus, was hid away in the tree-top in due time. An immense concourse of persons, of all sizes and colors, assembled at the appointed hour, and Dow preached on the Judgment at the last day. By his power of description he wrought the multitude up to the highest pitch of excitement in describing the scenes of the resurrection at the call of the trumpet peals which were to awaken the sleeping nations. "Then," said he, "suppose, my dying friends, suppose you should hear at this moment the sound of Gabriel's trumpet"— Sure enough, at that moment the trumpet sounded. The women shrieked, and many fainted; the men sprang up and stood aghast. Some ran, and all felt for a time that the judgment was set and the books were opened. Dow stood and watched the drifting storm till fright abated, and some one discovered the colored angel who had caused the alarm quietly perched on a limb of the old spruce, and wanted to get him down to whip him. Then he resumed his theme, saying, "I forbid all persons present from touching that boy up there. If a colored boy with a tin horn can frighten you almost out of your wits, what will you do when you shall hear the trumpet thunder from the archangel? How will you be able to stand the great wrath of God?"