life.
After-years have given to these questions and their answers a deeper or
a modified meaning, but none of us has ever once even dreamed of wishing
that we had been otherwise trained. Of course, if the parents are not
devout, sincere, and affectionate,--if the whole affair on both sides is
taskwork, or worse, hypocritical and false,--results must be very
different indeed!

Oh, I can remember those happy Sabbath evenings; no blinds down, and
shutters up, to keep out the sun from us, as some scandalously affirm;
but a holy, happy, entirely human day, for a Christian father, mother
and children to spend. Others must write and say what they will, and as
they feel; but so must I. There were eleven of us brought up in a home
like that; and never one of the eleven, boy or girl, man or woman, has
been heard, or ever will be heard, saying that Sabbath was dull and
wearisome for us, or suggesting that we have heard of or seen any way
more likely than that for making the Day of the Lord bright and blessed
alike for parents and for children. But God help the homes where these
things are done by force and not by love!

As I must, however, leave the story of my father's life--much more
worthy, in many ways, of being written than my own--I may here mention
that his long and upright life made him a great favorite in all
religious circles far and near within the neighborhood, that at
sick-beds and at funerals he was constantly sent for and much
appreciated, and that this appreciation greatly increased, instead of
diminishing, when years whitened his long, flowing locks, and gave him
an apostolic beauty; till finally, for the last twelve years or so of
his life, he became by appointment a sort of Rural Missionary for the
four nearest parishes, and spent his autumn in literally sowing the good
seed of the Kingdom as a Colporteur of the Tract and Book Society of
Scotland. His success in this work, for a rural locality, was beyond all
belief. Within a radius of five miles he was known in every home,
welcomed by the children, respected by the servants, longed for eagerly
by the sick and aged. He gloried in showing off the beautiful Bibles and
other precious books, which he sold in amazing numbers. He sang sweet
Psalms beside the sick, and prayed like the voice of God at their dying
beds. He went cheerily from farm to farm, from cot to cot; and when he
wearied on the moorland roads, he refreshed his soul by reciting aloud
one of Ralph E