like her to do-how sweetly submissive she was to all their wishes and requirements-and how the principle of cheerful obedience always triumphed over self-will. She was wont, even at a very early period of her life, to take the most nauseous medicine without a murmuring word, although it might sometimes be observed that she grew pale as she took the glass into her hand. It was enough for her to know that the doctor had ordered it, and that her parents wished that order to be complied with.

As another illustration of her strong desire to gratify the wishes of her parents, it may be mentioned that, on one occasion, when Eliza was about five years old, she accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Græme on a visit to some friends. Not being a robust child, and requiring particular care in the matter of food, her mother was in the habit of seeing her at her meals. It was customary to have her tea brought into the drawing-room before the family went to a late dinner. One evening Eliza felt unable to take her tea when it was brought to her. Afterwards, the housekeeper, with the most enticing promises of jelly and all the other good things she had to offer, could not prevail on Eliza to take tea, because her papa and mamma had not said she might, and because they were not now present to give her permission. The dear child really retired to bed. without any tea, and without a murmur. Of course, so soon as this circumstance became known, Eliza

had her little meal in bed. But her parents were quite grieved for their unintentional negligence in leaving the drawing-room without any order—never dreaming of so strict and literal a regard to their wishes on the part of their daughter.

In allusion to such constant submission and prompt obedience on the part of Eliza, her bereaved mother is now constrained to say, "Did not God show me by all this how I had failed in love, and in obedience, and in submission to HIM? Oh, yes! her example was constantly coming home to me in strong reproof; and every day I felt more and more my insufficiency and incapacity to serve God without his aid; and that it was needful He should work in me both to will and to do his good pleasure. And I desire ever to remember one of my own dear child's texts, which she recalled to my mind at a later period when I was ill and in great trouble: 'I can do all things through Christ, who strengtheneth me.""

Before Eliza had learnt to read, her mamma, like most other mammas, instructed her child by reading to her. Amongst other books, she remembers to have used "Line upon Line," and "Food for Babes," which interested her; and as it was her custom to ask questions at the close of a chapter, the replies she got indicated how thoroughly the child understood what had been read, and how attentively she had listened.

But, whilst yet very young, Eliza was taught to

read. Her mother was her teacher, and found the occupation most delightful, as the dear child learnt so easily, and so well remembered everything she learnt. Her progress was the more surprising, as frequent illness and general delicacy necessarily interfered with lessons. It soon, however, became apparent to all who had opportunities of knowing her, that, although her corporeal frame was very diminutive, her mental powers were of a superior order. With all her extraordinary placidity and sweetness of disposition, she was eminently observant and reflective; and so early were her religious feelings developed, that, when only between four or five years of age, she manifested an unusual delight in the Holy Scriptures, and had treasured up no inconsiderable amount of scriptural knowledge. So fond was she of the Bible, that she was used to put it under her pillow by night; and on awaking in the morning, her first employment was to read a portion of this blessed book. As she grew older, she would not allow anything to hinder her from searching the Scriptures, as if the counsel addressed by our Lord to the Jews of old had been imperatively addressed to herself: "Search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life, and they are they that testify of me."-John, v. 39.

In 1840 or 41 the family went into Scotland, to visit relations. On their way into Perthshire they spent a few days in Roxburghshire, and visited

Melrose Abbey. When looking at the magnificent ruins, Eliza discovered on the ground a dead sparrow, which had probably been killed by some idle boy. She picked it up, and, with an expression of great concern in her countenance, remarked, "God's word says that not a sparrow falleth to the ground without his permission. Did he order this?" And at the house of their friends there were other guests also staying, some of whom were struck with Eliza's knowledge of Scripture, and used to say, "That child won't live long; there is something so uncommon about her, and so intelligent above her years." At that time she was about five years of age. And on after occasions, when her parents happened to be travelling either by railway or in steam-boat, Eliza was never ashamed to take out her pocket Bible, and read it in presence of young or old who might be in the same boat or carriage. This she did, not at all with ostentation, but in her usual, quiet, thoughtful way. And it must be acknowledged, that thus to act before the gay or the worldly required not only a real love to the word of God, but also no small measure of moral courage, as, from the conversation that was passing around her, she could not fail to know that her conduct would be regarded as at least singular. Would to God there was more of such singularity! Many christians of advanced age and of matured experience must stand self-condemned before this babe in Christ. Ah! it is still true that

God perfects praise out of the mouths of babes and sucklings. It is still true that children are sometimes heard singing their hosannahs when the harps of older people are unstrung.

Eliza had measles very severely in her fifth year. And when confined to her little cot, she would quite contentedly lie all the day if her mamma would only read the Bible to her. The one sooner tired of reading than the other did of hearing. And if, on laying aside the sacred volume, Mrs. Græme brought her some toys for her amusement during a necessary absence from the sick chamber, the sweet child I don't care for these things, mamma; stay and talk to me about Jesus."

would say,

Precious sentiments like these, dropping so frequently from the infantile lips of little Eliza, could not escape the notice of her parents, although it is possible there might at the time have been no distinct acknowledgment of the source from whence they proceeded. But as the natural mind of all mankind-of young and old-is alienation from God and his truth as revealed in the Gospel, we may surely conclude, that, even at this early age, the Holy Spirit was working in the heart of this little girl, taking of the things of Jesus and showing them to her.

If the word of God was the only solace Eliza sought or found pleasure in during that time of severe sickness, we must admit it was to herself a blessed sickness. And this sickness was also a time