ening the book at the third chapter
of Saint John's Gospel.

"`God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world; but that
the world through Him might be saved;'" and Peter read on to the end of
the chapter.

"Shall I read more, mother?" he asked.

"Read, read," she whispered, "for it will soon be too dark."

At length Peter could see to read no more, and closing the book, he put
it carefully back into the case.

"Keep it, my child," said his mother, solemnly; "cherish it, and never
part with it while you live. Put it in your breast-pocket now; I would
like to see it there, next to your heart, where I pray its truths may
find a firm lodgment. It was a gift to me from my dear young mistress
on her deathbed. She had intended it for her own child, and she charged
me, should I ever have one, to instruct him from his earliest days in
its glorious truths. Peter, I have done so, not trusting in my own
strength and knowledge, but with earnest prayer that those truths may be
imparted to you. And oh, Peter, while you take care of the book, make
it a lamp to your feet and a light to your path. Read it with prayer,
seeking the aid of God's Holy Spirit to instruct you in its truths, and
you will not read in vain."

Mrs Gray spoke with solemn earnestness, and Peter promised to follow
her counsels, uttering a petition to Heaven at the same time that he
might have grace to do so.

"Peter," she continued, "I am soon to be taken from you, but I die in
peace, for I know that God has heard my prayers, and will watch over you
and guard you from evil, and support and comfort you, but do you
yourself seek comfort and guidance from Him, and you will not be left
destitute."

She was silent for some minutes.

"Peter," she said, drawing him closer to her and speaking in a low
voice, "I grieve to part from you, but I grieve more when I think of
your poor father. God knows how earnestly I have prayed for him, and I
cannot even now believe that he was taken out of the world still
ignorant of God's love and free pardon to all who believe in His Son. I
have often dreamed that he has come to me, looking just as he was when
he went away, only paler and more careworn; he seemed to ask me to fetch
him from some far-off land whence he could not escape. It may have been
but an empty dream w