rest. I could see that, of all her children, the one that was gone was the dearest; another tie than that of a mother's love had bound them to each other; and I could trace how deep was the comfort afforded to the poor mother in the prospect of rejoining her child in heaven. It was from information gained on many visits that the few facts I am about to relate were gleaned, and if in thus making them known I shall be instrumental in encouraging any awakened heart to persevere in its search for peace, I shall be amply repaid.

A

Katie M- was one of those bright and happy dispositions whose joyousness is so attractive. cloud never seemed to rest upon her happy face. As she returned from school with her playfellows, her laugh would ring loud, and clear, and sweet, and one could easily tell, by the way in which her schoolfellows grouped around her, how much beloved she was by them all.

She was not only a happy but a very obedient child, and often when school was over, in place of joining her young friends at play, she used to do her mother's errands, or stay at home to help her in her domestic duties, which were often severe labours because of failing health.

But though Katie was a good child, and a great comfort to both her parents, yet it was a source of great anxiety to her poor mother to see that she did not love God as she ought to do; and though she would listen to her mother when she spoke on reli

gious subjects, yet her mother never had the comfort in her own heart of feeling that her child loved Him who so loved her. It is true she used to like to read the Bible, and in the morning and evening she used to kneel by her little bed, and pray to God to bless her parents, and her brothers and sisters, and to forgive her her sins, and keep her from temptation.

Yet, with all this attention to her religious duties, that little heart was not given to God. This was a great trial to Katie's mother; long taught in the school of affliction, she had been led to rest all her hopes on Him who was the Great Saviour. Often would the sad thoughts pass through that anxious mother's heart, that perhaps, when her last moments should come, and she should be laid on that bed from which she should never rise, and her children should be grouped round her, and Katie too, the dearest child of her heart, that perhaps she would only meet them once again, when they all were assembled before the judgment-seat of the Almighty. These were very sad thoughts, and when they used to arise in her mind she ever had recourse to prayer, as the unfailing source of consolation.

The district in which was situated the village where Katie lived had attractions peculiar to itself. Its woods were beautiful, and the groups of trees in the open spaces strikingly arranged. The village was situated on the outskirts of a fine park, and through the long vistas opened here and there in the woods

glimpses night be caught of a grand house, and beautifully-kept grounds, and uplands that stretched far away until joined to some wild forest scenery.

It was on a lovely May morning that Katie and her mother were occupied in the cottage about some household work. The door was open, and they could hear the cooing of the wood pigeons, and the soft murmur of the slight breeze as it rustled the branches of the trees amongst which the cottage nestled, and now and then might be heard the musical tinkle of some distant sheep-bells. Katie and her mother were very busy, and while they worked they talked gaily, and sometimes the young girl with her sweet voice would sing some ballad or childish song, learned when at school.

They toiled on thus for a while, until all at once the sharp sound of a bell struck on the ear. It was repeated again and again. It was the knell, telling with its iron tongue that a soul had been recalled by God to its unchangeable state.

The population of the village was small, and, as in all villages, the affairs of each family were intimately known, Katie and her mother were therefore startled by the sound of the knell, for they knew that there was no one in the village so ill that the news of a death would not seem sudden and unexpected. Just then one of the villagers passed by, and seeing Katie and her mother standing at the door, she stopped to bid them good morning, and to tell them some news to which she evidently at

tached some importance. It was to the effect that Mrs. Clarke, a neighbour, had died suddenly, and it was for her that the knell had struck out. Of all

persons in the village, Mrs. Clarke was the least prepared to die. She had but a short time previous to the sound of the knell been occupied with some household work, when suddenly, without exclamation or symptom of pain or suffering, she fell to the ground a lifeless corpse.

The neighbour passed on to spread the intelligence. Katie worked on at her task; she sang no more, she talked no more with her mother—a weight seemed to have fallen on her heart. Suddenly she disappeared, going up to her little room On returning, her mother observed the traces of tears and saw the swollen eyes and the frightened look of the young girl, all giving token of some secret, sudden, and heavy grief.

Katie had often heard the knell before, but now it was the instrument in God's hands to awaken her soul. She sat and thought of God's beautiful world, she listened to the sweet song of the birds, she watched the sun's rays as they penetrated through the boughs of the trees, and here and there lighted up the fresh green grass, and then she would think of Mrs. Clarke, so suddenly summoned to her account. She would picture to her mind how yesterday she rose full of life and animation, and how she bustled about her household work. Then her thoughts would revert to the invisible world, and she would think

of that poor soul summoned in all its guilt to stand before the God it had offended—for it appeared that Mrs. Clarke had had a violent quarrel with her husband, who had reproached her on the morning of the day on which she died for her bad habits.

Days and months passed on thus. The godly sorrow that worketh repentance was truly in her, but she found no peace. All the mirth of heart and manner were subdued; and her companions, but above all, her mother, wondered what had happened to Katie. One day her mother could no longer refrain herself, and she said to her,

"My child, you know how dearly I love you, and how I pray for you, and I cannot tell you how grieved I am to see you so unhappy; tell me what it is that ails you, and I will try to give you comfort."

But Katie's only reply was, "It is nothing, mother: I shall be well and happy by and by."

At this time the poor girl was so miserable that her health was beginning to suffer. One by one she abandoned her former companions, and attached herself to those who were more serious; yet still she found no peace. She used to pray and read the Bible, but all seemed fruitless, and her heart was filled with anguish, and her salvation seemed beyond the bounds of possibility. She had not yet learned to look to the finished work of Christ.

One day that her mother was in their little garden she passed close to the wood-house, where the