I cannot well describe my astonishment and grief of heart, on being installed in my new and otherwise happy, delightful home, to find wanting a family altar.  I had indeed the comfort of knowing that in my own distant home the “absent child” was never for once forgotten, when the dear circle gathered for family worship.

So certain was the belief which my parents entertained that an indispensable portion was to be obtained for each child in going in unto the King of kings, that in case of a mere temporary sickness, if at all consistent, family prayer was had in the room of the invalid.  Not even a blessing was invoked at the morning meal till every child was found in the right seat.  In case of a delinquency, perhaps not a word of rebuke was uttered, but that silent, patient waiting, was rebuke enough for even the most tardy.

It was felt, I believe, by each member of the family, that there was meaning in the every-day, earnest petition, “May we all be found actually and habitually ready for death, our great and last change.”  My father did not pray as an old lady is said to have done each day, “that God would bless her descendants as long as grass should grow or water should run.”  But there was something in his prayers equivalent to this.  He did seldom omit to pray that God would bless his children and his children’s children to the latest generation.

Oh how often, while absent, did my mind revert to that assembled group at home!  Nothing, I believe, serves to bind the hearts of children so closely to their parents and to each other as this taking messages for each other to the court of heaven.  Never before did I realize that each brother and sister were to me a second self.

I was a most firm believer in the truth of the Bible, and I have often thought more inclined to take the greater part as literal than most others.  I had often read with fear and trembling the passage, “I will pour out my fury upon the heathen, and upon the families that call not upon my name.”  To dwell in a Christian land and be considered no better than heathen—­what a dreadful threatening; a condemnation, however, not above the comprehension of a child.  Here I was in such a family, and here I was expected to remain for a full year.  I do not recollect to have entertained any fears for my personal safety, yet every time a thunder-storm seemed to rack the earth, and as peal after peal with reverberated shocks were re-echoed from one part of the firmament to the other, I was in dread lest some bolt might be sent in fury upon our dwelling on account of such neglect.  Little did these friends know what thoughts were often passing through my mind as I ruminated upon their privileges and their disregard of so plain and positive a duty.  I did often long to confide to my aunt, whom I so much venerated, my thoughts and feelings on religious subjects, with the same freedom I had been encouraged to do to my