than I had ever seen
him. At breakfast his conversation was animated, and he smiled
repeatedly. I looked at him with the greatest interest, and the eyes of
his wife were almost constantly fixed upon him. A shade of gloom would
occasionally come over his countenance, but it almost instantly
disappeared; perhaps it proceeded more from habit than anything else.
After breakfast he took his Welsh Bible and sat down beneath a tree. His
eyes were soon fixed intently on the volume; now and then he would call
his wife, show her some passage, and appeared to consult with her. The
day passed quickly and comfortably.

'Your husband seems much better,' said I, at evening fall, to Winifred,
as we chanced to be alone.

'He does,' said Winifred; 'and that on the day of the week when he was
wont to appear most melancholy, for to-morrow is the Sabbath. He now no
longer looks forward to the Sabbath with dread, but appears to reckon on
it. What a happy change! and to think that this change should have been
produced by a few words, seemingly careless ones, proceeding from the
mouth of one who is almost a stranger to him. Truly, it is wonderful.'

'To whom do you allude,' said I; 'and to what words?'

'To yourself, and to the words which came from your lips last night,
after you had heard my poor husband's history. Those strange words,
drawn out with so much seeming indifference, have produced in my husband
the blessed effect which you have observed. They have altered the
current of his ideas. He no longer thinks himself the only being in the
world doomed to destruction,--the only being capable of committing the
never-to-be-forgotten sin. Your supposition that that which harrowed his
soul is of frequent occurrence amongst children has tranquillised him;
the mist which hung over his mind has cleared away, and he begins to see
the groundlessness of his apprehensions. The Lord has permitted him to
be chastened for a season, but his lamp will only burn the brighter for
what he has undergone.'

Sunday came, fine and glorious as the last. Again my friends and myself
breakfasted together--again the good family of the house on the hill
above, headed by the respectable master, descended to the meadow. Peter
and his wife were ready to receive them. Again Peter placed himself at
the side of the honest farmer, and Winifred by the side of her friend.
'Wilt thou not come?' said Peter, looking towards me with a face in which
there was