would forget her.

REMARKABLE PRESERVATION OF LIFE FROM LIGHTNING IN ANSWER TO PRAYER.

I was riding on top of the Boulder Pass of the Rocky Mountains, in the
summer of 1876, when a sudden storm of rain, wind, and furious tempest
came up. There was no shelter from rocks, no trees or buildings to be
seen--a lonely, wind-swept summit. I knew that the lightning on those
high elevations was fearful in intensity. I was appalled at the prospect
before me, but feeling that God had promised to care for his children--
"No evil shall befall thee or come nigh thy dwelling"--I composed
myself, and though on horseback, with the rain beating in torrents, I
offered simple prayer to God that he would save me from the rain and
stop it. But _No_, it came harder than ever; then I prayed that I might
be protected from all danger, "_for I trusted in Him_!"

I rode on and on for miles, chilly, cold, wet through, the clouds
hanging low and the lightning flashing above me, around me, striking
near me, constant flashes, peals of thunder; but I was not terrified.
"God must keep me." _Twice I was distinctly struck_ with the electric
flash, detached portions or sparks from the electric cloud, directly in
the center of the forehead, but it had no more force than just to close
my eyes, shake my head a little, obscure my sight a moment, and then it
was all over, and I was clearer, cooler, calmer, happier, and more
self-possessed than ever before. I attribute my protection from peril
entirely to prayer, and the fierceness of the tempest and the proximity
of danger were permitted by the Lord to try my trust. Those portions
which struck me, if in ordinary times had been given me from an electric
battery in a school-room, a shock with sparks only one-hundredth the
size, would have killed me.

I can thus say with thanks, faith was then made perfect in danger, and
the Lord _was faithful_ in hearing his child's cry, and delivered him.

GOD NEVER FAILED HER.

An aged colored woman, lived that life of faith which shines brighter
and brighter unto the perfect day. Born a slave, on Long Island, she was
never taught to read, never enjoyed any social privileges; but the God
of the widow of Sarepta, who had neither "store-house nor barn," was her
God, and brought her out of the house of spiritual bondage.

She outlived all her early associations; all her children and
grandchildren, husband and brother passed on before, leaving her alone
in poverty a