fifteen pounds was all that the old woman had to support herself and rear the children; but there was surely a blessing with it, for it went farther than many people's fifties, and upon it alone she contrived to maintain a decent appearance and proud independence. She rented a small cottage in the vicinity of Govan, on the banks of the Clyde; and there, with her little orphans, and scanty means, and meek deportment, presented a picture of true greatness, nobler far than what is to be found in castle or palace.

Though her life had been one of adversity, and her best feelings had been outraged by those who were dearest to her, the original benevolence of her nature was neither soured nor diminished. She was full of divine charity-not the charity of distributing from a store of worldly superfluities for she had not even the widow's mite to spare-but the charity which thinketh no evil and speaketh no guile, and which looks with loving-kindness on every fellow-creature. The sweetness of her disposition, connected with a knowledge of her misfortunes and difficulties, made her venerated by all the villagers; and for her sake, her grandchildren were often fondled on the knee, or treated to little delicacies which their desolate lot in life could never otherwise have procured them. The children themselves were models of beauty and innocence-graceful, modest, and affectionate in all that they said or did, for to an originally kind and tractable disposition were superadded the valuable example and instruction of their grandmother.

Neither of the little ones had reached their fifth year, when they were destined to experience a great change in their condition. It was one night in the fall of the year, when autumn was giving way to winter, that they had gone to bed early as usual, after saying their evening prayer with their head in grandmother's lap, and receiving her blessing. Age is wakeful-and the old woman was in the habit of sitting up for hours after they were asleep, reading her bible, or plying her distaff. Sometimes the children would wake from their sleep, and receive from her tender hand a bit of bread or cup of water. Or sometimes they would start from a terrifying dream, and then her kind voice was ever near them, to assure them of safety, and soothe them into renewed repose. In one of those frightful dreams, to which even the most innocent-minded, carefully nurtured, and healthy children are liable, Catherine, the eldest child, had wakened, and cried with a scream for her grandmother. But her cry was not, as it ever before had been, responded to on this occasion by her assiduous and watchful guardian. She repeated her cry; but grandmother came not-spoke not. Her little brother was wakened by her agitation, and then she had confidence to open her eyes and look about the apartment. There she saw