the trust was never regretted on either side,
and never betrayed.

Often and often, in the genial and beautiful hours of the autumntide of
their long life, have I heard my dear father tease "Jen" about her
maidenly intentions in the stealing of that bonnet; and often have heard
her quick mother-wit in the happy retort, that had his motives for
coming to that retreat been altogether and exclusively pious, he would
probably have found his way to the other side of the wood, but that men
who prowled about the Garden of Eden ran the risk of meeting some day
with a daughter of Eve!

CHAPTER III.
CONSECRATED PARENTS.

SOMEWHERE in or about his seventeenth year, my father passed through a
crisis of religious experience; and from that day he openly and very
decidedly followed the Lord Jesus. His parents had belonged to one of
the older branches of what is now called the United Presbyterian Church;
but my father, having made an independent study of the Scotch Worthies,
the Cloud of Witnesses, the Testimonies, and the Confession of Faith,
resolved to cast in his lot with the oldest of all the Scotch Churches,
the Reformed Presbyterian, as most nearly representing the Covenanters
and the attainments of both the first and second Reformations in
Scotland. This choice he deliberately made, and sincerely and
intelligently adhered to; and was able at all times to give strong and
clear reasons from Bible and from history for the principles he upheld.

Besides this, there was one other mark and fruit of his early religious
decision, which looks even fairer through all these years. Family
Worship had heretofore been held only on Sabbath Day in his father's
house; but the young Christian, entering into conference with his
sympathizing mother, managed to get the household persuaded that there
ought to be daily morning and evening prayer and reading of the Bible
and holy singing. This the more readily, as he himself agreed to take
part regularly in the same, and so relieve the old warrior of what might
have proved for him too arduous spiritual toils! And so began in his
seventeenth year that blessed custom of Family Prayer, morning and
evening, which my father practised probably without one single avoidable
omission till he lay on his deathbed, seventy-seven years of age; when
ever to the last day of his life, a portion of Scripture was read, and
his voice was heard softly joining in the Psalm, and his lips breathed
the morning and