, with much difficulty,
said,--'Pray--for--me.' My father knelt and implored the mercy of heaven
on the soul that was departing. I could not bear that he should leave
the world without one word in regard to what were his feelings in the
near prospect of death. Going near, I said,--'Do you feel willing to
trust yourself to the Saviour's mercy to penitent sinners?' He gave a
sign of assent, and a more peaceful expression settled on his
countenance. 'I know,' said he in a whisper, 'that I have been a
grievous sinner for many long years, yet the forgiveness guaranteed by
you, whom I have so deeply injured, gives me a hope that God will also
forgive the sins, for which I now trust I feel deeply penitent.' After
this, he lay for a short time in a kind of stupor. Suddenly, he opened
his eyes, and they rested upon my father, who stood by his bed-side. His
lips moved slightly, and my father distinguished the words,--'Pray for
me.' He again knelt and prayed earnestly, in a subdued voice, for the
spirit that was then entering the unknown future. A few moments after,
and the soul of George Almont was summoned to leave its earthly
tenement. When the small procession that had followed his remains to
their last resting-place turned from the new-made grave, the two
following lines from Gray's Elegy came unbidden to my mind:--

No further seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode.'

"Perhaps, Clara," continued Miss Simmonds, "you may, in your walks
through what is now called 'The Old Burial-ground,' a short distance
from the village, have observed a lonely grave, marked by a plain marble
headstone, and shaded by the branches of an aged tree; you may have
noticed this grave, and never given a thought to the poor mortal who
sleeps there. That is the grave of George Almont. Three years later, my
father died, and I was left alone. Since that period I have lived
sometimes alone, and occasionally spending a short time with any family
who happen to require my services, as I find it necessary to do
something for my own support. I have been able to support myself in
comfort and respectability, and even occasionally to bestow charity in a
small way to those less favored than myself. I know not why I felt so
much inclined to relate these circumstances to you this evening, for you
are the first stranger to whom I ever related the story connected with
my early life. I am no longer young, but the memory of