both he and his aged partner-his companion in the faith and hope of the Gospel-have been translated to the land where "they shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun light on them nor any heat, but where the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne doth feed them, and lead them to fountains of living waters,-where God hath wiped away all tears from their eyes."

[By the Authoress of Conversations on the Historical Truth and Inspiration of the Holy Scriptures.]

THE PRAYERLESS MOTHER.

Do you remember, dear brother, that when you were in H- several years ago, you held my little girl upon your lap, and said you hoped she would not have a prayerless mother? You did not know how deep your words sunk in my heart-how fearfully they sounded. It was like the sudden plunging of a dagger. I was that horrid thing: I was a prayerless mother! Satisfied with the happiness I enjoyed, I forgot the source. I had forgotten prayer-forgotten God! You can conceive, then, the startling effect of your words-the host of recollections they awakened. Till memory cease, I never shall forget their force. I thought, "Must my child have a prayerless mother, when for me so many prayers have urged their way to heaven?" I thought of times when I had knelt by the side of a fair fond being, who had clasped my tiny hands, and taught me to pray-to love God. And should my child have no such guide? Should no prayer ascend for her? Oh, it was an awful thought! I saw the image of that sainted sister, who had been the guardian of my childhood, mournfully reproaching me. Tears were in her gentle eyes: she wept for my child and me. I tried to pray. The effort was in vain. I could only clasp my babe, with unutterable yearnings, that it might be better than its mother. There was a constant struggle in my breast. Should I, could I, give up the world? I thought much on the subject of religion, but I could not bring my mind to love God-to desire Christ above all things. Why? I did not pray! That sufficiently accounts for my indecision. At length I was cast on a bed of sickness. I thought it was the bed of death. There God manifested himself as my

friend. He promised to take care of my children. I feared not to leave them with Him. A tide of love and peace rushed in upon my heart. My joy has remained; my love to God does not waver; and my children will no more, I trust, have a PRAYERLESS MOTHER.

[Mother's Monthly Journal (American).]

RECOLLECTIONS OF A DEPARTED CHILD.

BY A WIDOWED MOTHER.

[THE following extract is taken from a very interesting little work which has recently been published, under the title of "The Pious Brothers"]:

From the earliest dawnings of reason, my beloved child displayed uncommon tenderness of conscience, and was under a deep and abiding sense of the presence of God. His feelings were naturally keen, and his affections remarkably strong; his love of truth so exemplary, that I cannot, from his earliest infancy, remember one instance of his having been guilty of falsehood, or even of prevarication.

He was free from those superstitious fears so common to childhood, insomuch, that when only two years and a half old, happening for a time to sleep in my room, which was on a flat of the house entirely unoccupied, till Dr. L. and I retired to rest, after saying his little prayer, and being put to bed, he used to bid me good night, and say, "Now, Mamma, put out the light, and shut the door;" when he went quietly to sleep.

When not more than four years old, he felt great delight in being taken to church, where his intelligent countenance, and fixed attention, attracted the notice of those near him; and at that early age he remembered any Scripture quotation, or little portion of the sermon which happened to strike him.

At this time he would often admonish his elder brother, then a sprightly thoughtless child, between five and six years of age. If Thomas was guilty of any little error, he would say, Now, Tommy, you are pleasing the devil just nowremember there are only two ways; if you choose the one you will be happy, but if the other, you will be miserable."

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On one occasion, when he fancied his brother had acted ungenerously, he said, "Tommy, go and read the motto on grandpapa's snuff-box, 'Do as you wish to be done to.""

Even in his childish amusements, he never seemed to lose sight of more important objects. One day happening to see his younger brother Walter playing with the contents of a Noah's Ark, which he had received as a present, he remarked, "These animals are very beautiful, but although men can make many strange things, they cannot make them live or move; it is only God that can do that." On another occasion, going up-stairs to his grandmother's room, when there happened to be no one with her, she said, "Have you come up to see me, John, because you knew I was alone?" He answered, "No, grandmamma, you are not alone; God is always with you, though you do not see Him.”

Having seen a child, whom he occasionally visited, amusing himself with a pack of cards, on his return home he mentioned the circumstance to me, and inquired what was the use of them. Being informed that they were made for the amusement of ladies and gentlemen, many of whom spent much money, and a great deal of time, on the games on which they were used, the loser often getting very angry with the gainer, he exclaimed, "Is it possible, mamma, that grown-up people play themselves with pieces of painted paper, like little children?" He afterwards frequently recurred to the subject; and when he was older, being told that there had been individuals who were devoted and habitual gamesters, spending the whole of their time and fortune, and even sacrificing life itself, in consequence of such pursuits, he expressed astonish-: ment, almost amounting to incredulity, it being scarcely possible to persuade him that accountable creatures, who had so many important duties to perform in a short and uncertain period, and such a variety of rational and interesting methods of employing their hours of recreation, could seek or find pleasure in such occupations.

During his father's lengthened illness, this dear child studied to give as little trouble as possible; and when it pleased God to remove his beloved parent from a world of sin and sorrow, John's feelings were evidently deep though not loud. At that time, though only five years of age, he made many remarks, displaying a depth of pious feeling, and a clearness of judgment truly astonishing.

Immediately after my dear husband's death, Walter became alarmingly ill; and about two months later, while he was still in imminent danger, John received a severe blow on the back part of the head, from a fall on the stone lobby, and shortly after another on the forehead, from a similar cause. Alarming symptoms in the head shortly after appeared, which were subdued by the prompt and judicious application of suitable remedies; his constitution, however, had received a severe shock, and at that time I believe was laid the foundation of the accumulated sufferings which so severely tried his faith and patience. An abscess on the forehead soon made its appearance, which was speedily followed by one on the back part of the head, and many others on various parts of the body, blisters, caustic, and other painful remedies were applied, which he endured with the most exemplary fortitude.

A circumstance occurs to my recollection, which bears pleasing testimony that the uncommon patience with which John endured his lengthened sufferings, proceeded from something more than mere strength of mind. In the summer of 1834, Dr. H. thought it necessary that a very large abscess in the back should be opened; my poor child had, however, already suffered so much from similar operations, that I knew not how to mention it, and for a time thought it should be done while the doctor was examining the back, without giving John any previous notice. After Dr. H. was in the house, however, it occurred to me that this was a species of deception; I, therefore, as cautiously as I could, made the necessary communication-my poor boy was much overcome, and wept bitterly.

When a little girl, I had read in the Christian Monitor a memoir of Janet Ramsay, a circumstance in whose life was at this moment providentially brought to my recollection. It was as follows: When in the infirmary, on account of a severe bruise on the hand, for which an operation was deemed necessary, she felt her mind exceedingly overwhelmed by the prospect of what she was to suffer; but in passing from the ward into the room where the operation was to be performed, the words were forcibly impressed on her mind, "He was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth," upon which she had such an overwhelming view of the Saviour's sufferings, that

her own appeared inconceivably light, and she endured the laying open of her hand with a degree of fortitude which astonished all who saw her.

This circumstance I repeated to John, and added a few remarks. He listened with the deepest attention, and immediately dried up his tears; and as soon as the doctor entered the room, he laid himself quietly across my arms, and not only submitted to the puncturing of the abscess, but lay without shrinking till the last drop of matter was pressed out; an operation which, though it was performed with the utmost tenderness, occupied a considerable time, and must have occasioned much suffering.

From this period my dear child's illness continued to increase, and an abscess under the knee-joint shortly afterwards rendered him quite lame; for some months, however, he was able to go out daily in a little carriage, till his debility became so excessive, and his suffering from an affection of the spine so great, that he could not sit upright, or bear any motion whatever.

During all this period he occasionally amused himself by drawing a little; his time, however, was chiefly employed in reading, or hearing others read; and during the long summer mornings, when from bodily anguish he could not lie in bed, he would frequently, as early as four o'clock, request me to lift him into a sofa near the window, when, occupied with his Bible or hymn-book, he would appear to forget his sufferings.

But although he spoke with singular intelligence and feeling on religious subjects, he always shrunk from speaking of his own views and prospects; and more than once, when I tried gently to lead him to the subject, he became so much agitated that I was obliged to desist.

Being at length convinced that the Lord did not design to bless the means used for his recovery, my petitions were turned into entreaties that I might be enabled to resign him; that, if consistent with the will of God, I might have the comfort of hearing from his own lips, that his heart was firmly stayed on his Redeemer; and that his passage might be quiet and easy. In all these particulars, blessed be God! my prayers were more than answered.

My beloved child's rapidly increasing sufferings, though endured with what I must call the most unshaken Christian