cumstances are the questions which
the heart will ask. She could not immediately speak, but with the head
of her dying boy upon her heart she sat in mute and unbroken agony,
every pang of her departing orphan throwing a deeper shade of affliction
over her countenance, and a keener barb of sorrow into her heart.

The champion of God, however, was at his post. He advanced to the
bed-side, and in tones which proclaimed the fulness of his sympathy in
her sufferings, and with a countenance lit up by that trust in heaven
which long trials of his own and similar bereavements had given him, he
addressed her in words of comfort and consolation, and raised her heart
to better hopes than any which this world of care and trial can bestow.
It is difficult, however, to give comfort in such moments, nor is it
prudent to enforce it too strongly. The widow looked upon her boy's
face, which was sweetly marked with the graces of innocence, even in
the throes of death. The light of life was nearly withdrawn from his dim
blue eye; but he felt from time to time for the mother's, hands, and
the mother's bosom. He was striving, too, to utter his little complaint;
attempting probably to describe his sufferings, and to beg relief from
his unhappy parent; but the dissolving power of death was on all his
faculties; his words lapsed into each, other indistinctly, and were
consequently unintelligible. Mrs. Vincent, for such was the widow's
name, heard the words addressed to her by Mr. Clement; she raised her
eyes, to heaven for a moment, and then turned them, heavy with misery,
upon her dying boy. Her heart--her hopes:--almost her whole being
were peculiarly centered in the object before her; and though she had
imagined that sympathy might support her, she now felt that no human
power could give her consolation. The tears were falling fast from Mr.
Clement's cheeks, who felt, that until the agonies of the boy were
over, it would be vain to offer her any kind of support. At length she
exclaimed--

"Oh! Saviour, who suffered the agony of the cross, and who loved little
children like him, let your mercy descend upon my beloved! Suffer him to
come to you soon. Oh! Saviour--hear a mother's prayer, for I loved him
above all, and he was our life! Core of my heart, you are striving to
tell your mother what you suffer, but the weight of death is upon your
tongue, and you cannot do it! I am here, my beloved sufferer--I am
here--you struggle to find my hands