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She had left indulgent parents, and a home of refinement and luxury, and we feared for her the untried duties of her new position; but an intimate acquaintance proved her eminently qualified for the responsibility she had assumed. She adapted herself with charming grace and readiness to her present circumstances. She was a most delightful acquisition to our limited circle; a favourite with all; and she blended so beautifully the graces of religion with those of her natural temperament that she became our idol.

The “parsonage” seemed to me a paradise, surrounded by none but bright and holy influences. There the poor always found a welcome, a willing heart, a ready hand, and listening ear; however sad and desponding on entering, they invariably came out cheerful and hopeful. There seemed a magic spell cast around every one who sought the presence of our dearly loved pastor and his wife.

With what pleasure I used to watch for their steps as they took their morning walks together that bright first year of their married life! They seemed to have the life and vivacity of children. She always accompanied him in his walks, in his visits to the poor, in relief to the sick, by the bedside of the dying; she was like his shadow, and always haunted him for good. It might be said most emphatically of both, “When the ear heard them it blessed them, and when the eye saw them it gave witness to them, because they delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him; the blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon them, and they caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy.”

Thus several years passed away; new cares and new duties devolved on them; but all were cheerfully met and delightfully performed; and they basked in the sunshine of God’s love. Beautiful children sprang up around them, and we felt that “earth never owned a happier nest” than that which was placed in our midst.

How proud Mr. B. was of his family, and with what reason, too, for we all felt it with him; his wife so beautiful, so good, so in all respects fitted to make home happy, with her never-failing sunshine and light-heartedness; his two little girls, our impersonation of cherubs; and the youngest a noble boy, so dear to his mother’s heart. Oh! how many attractions within that charmed circle!

I shall never forget an evening I passed in the nursery with that dear one surrounded by her happy little band. Willie, “the baby,” as she called him, although more than two years old, was sitting in her lap, twirling one of her long, beautiful ringlets round his tiny fingers.

“Sing, mamma!” he said.

“Oh, do!” joined in Effie and Minnie, putting their bright innocent faces and soft brown curls close to hers; “sing The Dove, mamma, please.”

She laughingly asked me to excuse her, saying, she always devoted the twilight hour to amusing and instructing the little ones. I begged her to allow my presence to be no restraint upon her usual custom. She then commenced, and I thought no seraph’s voice could be sweeter, as she sang one of Mary Howitt’s beautiful translations:–

“There sitteth a dove so white and fair
All on the lily spray,
And she listeneth how to Jesus Christ
The little children pray;
Lightly she spreads her friendly wings,
And to Heaven’s gate hath fled,
And to the Father in Heaven she bears
The prayers which the children have said.

And back she comes from Heaven’s gate,
And brings, that dove so mild,
From the Father in Heaven, who hears her speak,
A blessing for every child.
The children lift up a pious prayer–
It hears whatever you say,
That heavenly dove, so white and fair,
All on the lily spray.”