when morning came, I felt as though I could not live
through the day without knowing how he was. So I took a boat again,
and reached the vessel about 2 o'clock P.M. He could only
speak in whispers, but seemed very glad that I came. The natives I
had sent to fan him till he should get out of the river, came to me
and begged to have him taken on shore again: and so small was my
hope of his recovery, that my heart pleaded on their side, though I
still thought it a duty to do as the doctor had ordered. I came
away at dark, and though his lips moved to say some word of
farewell, they made no sound.

I hope that you, my dear boys, will never have cause to know what a
heavy heart I bore back to my desolate home that night. The vessel
got out to sea about 4 o'clock on Monday, and last night the
natives returned, bringing a letter from Mr. Ranney. Your precious
papa has revived again--spoke aloud--took a little tea and
toast--said there was something animating in the touch of the sea
breeze, and directed Mr. Ranney to write to me that he had a strong
belief it was the will of God to restore him again to health. I
feel somewhat encouraged, but dare not hope too much.

And now, my dear boys, it will be three, perhaps four long months
before we can hear from our beloved one again, and we shall all be
very anxious. All we can do is to commit him to the care of our
heavenly Father, and, if we never see him again in this world, pray
that we may be prepared to meet him in heaven

* * * * *

Your most affectionate mother,

Emily C. Judson

PRAYER FOR DEAR PAPA.

Poor and needy little children,
Saviour, God, we come to Thee,
For our hearts are full of sorrow,
And no other hope have we.
Out, upon the restless ocean,
There is one we dearly love,--
Fold him in thine arms of pity,
Spread thy guardian wings above.

When the winds are howling round him,
When the angry waves are high,
When black, heavy, midnight shadows,
On his trackless pathway lie,
Guide and guard him, blessed Saviour,
Bid the hurrying tempests stay;
Plant thy foot upon the waters.
Send thy smile to light his way.

When he lies, all pale, and suffering,