MOSES GRANT. MOSES GRANT has obtained a world-wide celebrity, by his untiring efforts to ameliorate the condition of the unfortunate children of poverty and sorrow. The widow and the orphan have reason to rise up and call him blessed. The drunkard and the prisoner have abundant cause to remember him gratefully, for his labor of love. Although advanced in years, he has the vigor, forecast, and decision of the prime of life. Between the hours of eight and one, in the morning, he may be found every working-day in his office, serving the poor. Groups of men, women, and children, of every complexion, from every country, may be seen at his office every forenoon, soliciting aid and advice. The dusky African, the mercurial Celt, the solid Englishman, the chattering Frenchman, the lymphatic German, and the exiled Hungarian. One sits on a bench at the window, eating a bowl of soup—another stoops down to fit a pair of shoes to his feet-another strips the rags from his back and puts on a warm jacket. Look at the procession passing through the gate. Here is a boy with a bag of rice, there is a girl with a loaf of bread, yonder is a woman with a basket of provisions. See that red-faced young man, his home is in the country, but he last night fell among thieves, between Broad and Beacon streets, and he has just borrowed a sum sufficient to take him to his parents. That modest woman, so plainly yet so neatly dressed, suffered uncomplainingly, until pinching hunger compelled her to solicit charity—her immediate wants are supplied, and employment will be procured for her. The man with a slouched hat and seedy coat has signed the pledge, and left his brandy bottle among the curiosities in the Deacon's temperance There comes the porter with a stack of letters and papers from the post-office-the former will be answered and the latter examined, before the rising of to-morrow's sun. museum. It is now noon. The sad faced, broken-hearted, and downtrodden procession, has passed away from the beautiful residence, and the owner and occupant of the mansion hurries down to his place of business, from that to the bank, and then home again, in time to dine. After dinner he calls for his carriage, and takes a poor boy to the Farm School-dropping in at South Boston to see the juvenile offenders, and calling, on his return, to see a sick woman, and administer such consolation and assistance as he can render. Her lips are white as the wild white rose, but she calls for blessings to descend upon kind friends, whose visits are better than medicine to her aching frame and breaking heart. The subject of this sketch is never idle. Now presiding at a Mass Meeting on the Common, or in Faneuil Hall, or in Tremont Temple-then making a speech to the convicts in Charlestown Prison, or visiting the paupers at Deer Islandor attending to his official business at the Board of Aldermen -or his duties as an office bearer in the Brattle street Church, where his father served before him, in the same capacity of Deacon. His father was one of the brave men who threw the tea overboard in Boston harbor. Mr. Grant is the senior partner in a large paper establishment, Overseer of the Poor, Almoner for the benevolent who choose to contribute of their abundance for the relief of the distressed; President of the Boston Temperance Society, and a director in many other institutions. He is a man of fortune, has a good education, and has visited Europe. He writes a sensible letter, and makes a practical speech; is peculiarly happy in his remarks to children, and always a welcome visitor at all juvenile demonstrations. many years he has been identified with the temperance cause. His house, and purse, and heart, are ever open for the advancement of his favorite enterprise. He is the unfaltering friend and patron of that eminent orator, J. B. Gough, and stood by his side in the hour of trial, when summer friends forsook him. For It is rather difficult to describe his person. The portrait in the American Temperance Magazine is a pretty fair resemblance, although not a perfect likeness. He has brown hair -sprinkled with lines of silver-blue eyes, thin face, cheeks somewhat sunken, is rather under the medium size. He is of the nervous-sanguine temperament; has a singular habit of twitching the muscles of his face and shrugging his shoulders when excited; often speaks abruptly, when pressed with business, and does not always appear to the best advantage at first sight, but wears well and "improves on acquaintance." In a word, he is a man of sound judgment, superior business talents, a practical philanthropist, and a sincere Christian. For many years he has been a hero in the battle-field of life, and many would be willing to give a dukedom to possess the green laurels and golden honors he has won. GEORGE N. BRIGGS. Lives of great men all remind us We may make our lives sublime, LONGFELLOW. We attribute this freak of He certainly is unlike the republican he would not HIS Excellency, GEORGE N. BRIGGS, is an American nobleman in the full-orbed manhood of life. He is robust, of broad build, and medium height. His eyes are blue, and his brown hair is tinged with the frost of more than fifty winters. His forehead is wide and high, and indicates more than a mediocrity of intellect, and his countenance is of a serious and thoughtful cast. He dresses plainly, and never wears a collar above his cravat. taste to his innate love of liberty. drunkard who was such an ultra wear a crown in his hat. He belongs to the Baptist church, and is one of its most efficient and influential members. He takes a deep and lively interest in the religious and reformatory movements of the age. In the temperance ranks he has fought many battles and gained many victories. When forgotten as Governor of the glorious old Commonwealth of Massachusetts, he will be gratefully remembered as having been a successful champion of the temperance enterprise. Gov. Briggs recently manifested a disposition to secure |