w me to read you a chapter, I suppose.'

'If you please, sir, but it always seemed to me a very gloomy book, and
I am afraid it will make me low-spirited.'

'No, I think not, it may raise your spirits.' Mr Maurice took down the
Bible, and opened it at the fifteenth chapter of First Corinthians. A
piece of torn paper lay between the opened leaves, and a few of the
verses were marked with a pencil. As Mr Maurice proceeded to read, the
face of the poor woman was gradually lowered till it almost rested on
her bosom, and at last, yielding to the intensity of her feelings, she
buried her face in the bed-clothes, and did not raise it again till the
chapter was finished.

'Oh, many and many is the time he has read it to me!' she exclaimed,
'and he put in the mark only the day before he died, so that I might
find it; but I could not, oh I couldn't bear to read it!'

'And why not?'

'Oh, I know it is true! I know I shall see him again! but, sir, he was a
_Christian_.'

'And so prepared to die, was he not?'

'Yes, sir, and my poor baby--'

'If it is taken away it will go to him in heaven.'

'Oh no, oh no! my baby must not die! My James was good, and has talked
to me hours, and hours, about being ready to die, but I used to laugh at
him--_that_ goes to my heart the worst, sir, to laugh at _him_ who was
as gentle as that baby, _him_ who is in his grave now. Oh if I could
forget _that_! He is in heaven, sir, but I--I shall never get there!
It's of no use to read the Bible to me, and talk to me--James used to
pray for me, but it was of no use, I am too wicked. But if you can save
the baby, sir, if God will let the child live, I shall have a little
comfort.'

Mr Maurice had succeeded in rousing the poor woman's feelings, but he
found that she felt more acutely than he imagined, and he now brought to
his aid the still small voice of the Gospel. He told her of the fountain
in which sin might be washed away, he told her of the place where the
weary might find rest, and pointed her to the Lord Jesus Christ, for
mercy; but though she appeared to listen, her thoughts were evidently
fixed upon her husband and child, and the truths he uttered fell
unheeded on her ear. After talking some time, he again read a portion of
the Bible, prayed with the poor woman, and went away.

'Oh, how I pity her, father,' said Harry, when they were on their way
home. 'Do you really think the little baby will get well?--I do hope it
will.'

'That i