Before her sister recovered, she was taken sick herself.  A kind relative who was watching by her bedside one night, offered her some medicine which she refused to take.  The watcher said, “I want to have you take it; it will make you well.”  The sick child replied:  “The medicine can’t cure me—­the doctors can’t cure me—­only God can cure me; but Jesus, he can make me well.”  On being told that it would please God, if she should take the medicine, she immediately swallowed it.  After this she lay for some time apparently in thought; then addressing the watcher she said, “Aunty B——­, do you know which is the way to heaven?” Then answering the question herself she said, “Because if you don’t, you go and ask my uncle H——­, and he will tell you which is the way.  He preaches in the pulpit every Sabbath to the people to be good,—­and that is the way to go to heaven.”

Were the dear child to come back now, she could hardly give a plainer or more scriptural direction—­for, “without holiness, no man shall see the Lord.”

Before Mary Jane had recovered from this sickness, a little brother was added to the number; thus making a group of infants, the eldest of whom could number but three years and one month.

As the little ones became capable of receiving impressions from religious truth, Mary Jane, though apparently but an infant herself, would watch over them with the most untiring vigilance.  One thing she was very scrupulous about; it was their evening prayer.  If at any time this had been omitted, she would appear to be evidently distressed.  One evening while her mother was engaged with company in the parlor, she felt something gently pulling her gown.  On looking behind her chair, she found little Mary Jane, who had crept in unobserved, and was whispering to her that the nurse had put her little brother and sister to bed without having said their prayers.

It was often instructive to me to see what a value this dear child set upon prayer.  I have since thought that the recovery of her infant sister, and her own prayer for the same, were so associated in her mind, as to produce a conviction of the efficacy of prayer, such as few possess.

Being confined so much to the nursery, the mother improved the favored season, in teaching her little girl to read, to sew and spell; keeping up at the same time her regular routine of instruction in catechism, hymns, &c.  She had an exercise for the Sabbath which was admirably adapted to make the day pass, not only pleasantly but profitably.  In the morning, unless prevented by illness, she was invariably found in her seat in the sanctuary, with such of her children as were old enough to be taken to church.  In the afternoon she gave her nurse the same privilege, but retained her children at home with herself.  The moment the house was clear, Mary Jane might be seen collecting the little group for the nursery; alluring them along with the assurance that “now