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 14 eyo would follow her. She would sit for hours his bed, watching him as be slept. Sometimes would start from a feverish dream, and look anxious up until lie saw her venerablo form bending ov him, when lie would take her hand, lay it on! bosom, and fall asleep with tho tranquillity of a chil In this way he died. My first impulse on hearing this humble tale affliction, was to visit the cottage of the mourud and administer pocuniary assistance, and, if possib comfort. I found, however, on inquiry, that t godd feelings of the villagers had prompted them do every thing that the case admitted ; and as ti poor know best how to console each other's sorrow I did not venture to intrude. The next Sunday I was at the village church when, to my surprise, I saw the poor old woman tottering down the aisle to her accustomed seat a the steps of the altar. She had made an effort to put on something lil mourning for her son ; and nothing could be mor touching thau this struggle between pious affectio and utter poverty: a black ribband or so, ---a fadd black handkerchief, and one or two more suc humble attempts to express by outward signs tl grief which passes show. When I looked round o the storied monuments, the stately hatchments, fli cold marble pomp, with which grandeur mourne magnificently over departed pride, and turned t this poor widow, bowed down by age and sorrow, a the altar of her God, and offering up the prayer and praises of a pious, though broken heart, I fel that this living monument of real grief was wort) them all I related her story to some of the wealthy mem bers of the congregation, and they were moved by it They exerted themselves to render her situation more comfortable, and to lighten her afflictions. I