the
neighbours when a child is born into the world: but it is a greater
thing to sit here alone and rejoice over the birth of a new soul in this
poor lady. It is but a feeble thing, this new born soul--born so much
too late; it is little better than blind and helpless, and with hard
struggles coming on before it has strength to meet them. But still it
is breathing with God's breath; and it may come freely to Christ.
Christ always spoke to souls; and what were the years of man's life to
Him? So I take it as an invitation in such a case as this, when He
says, `Suffer the little children to come unto Me.' O may the way be
kept clear for this infant soul to come to Him!"

Annie had all the kindly and cheerful instincts which simple hearts have
everywhere; and among them the wish to welcome the newly born with
music. With the same feeling which make the people of many a heathen
island and Christian country pour out their music round the dwelling
which is gladdened by a new birth, Annie now sang a cheerful religious
welcome to the young conscience which she trusted must henceforth live
and grow for ever. Her voice was heard next door, just so as to be
favourable to rest. Without knowing the occasion of the song, the lady
reposed upon it; and without knowing it, Annie sang her charge to sleep,
as she had often done when Rollo was an infant on her knee.

When at daylight she rose to put out her lamp, and observe the weather,
she saw what made her dress quickly, instead of going to bed for her
needful morning hour of sleep. A boat was making for the harbour
through the difficulties of the wintry sea. It rose and was borne on
the long swell so fast and so fearfully, that it appeared as if nothing
could save it from dashing on the ledges of projecting rock; and then,
before it reached them, it sank out of sight, to be lifted up and borne
along as before. There were four rowers, a steersman, and two others,
muffled in cloaks. Annie watched them till the boat disappeared in the
windings of the harbour; and she was out on the hill-side, in the cold
February wind, when she saw the whole party ascending from the shore,
and taking the road to Macdonald's.

Here was news! There must be news. Better not tell even Helsa till she
had heard the news. So the widow made what haste she could by the
nearer road; but her best haste could not compare with the ordinary pace
of the strangers. They had arrived long before she reache