been noticed before.  It was his custom upon the first Sabbath evening in each month to deliver an address to the youth of his flock, and it was noticed that his appeals had never been so earnest before, as after the departure of his son; but he seldom, if ever, mentioned his name, not even to his grief-stricken wife.  Our pastor was not what could properly be styled an old man, but it was thought that his grief, like a canker-worm, sapped at the fountains of life; his bodily health became impaired, his vigor of mind departed, and, ere he had seen sixty years, death removed him from earth, to a home of happiness in Heaven.  The widow was now bereft of both husband and child.  She was comforted concerning her departed husband, knowing that it was well with him; but she sorrowed continually for her absent boy; and often, during the lonely hours of night, as the moaning of the winds fell upon her ear, she would start from her sleepless pillow and utter a prayer for her poor boy who might even then be tossing on the restless ocean, or perhaps wrecked upon a dangerous coast.  She was a woman of good education, and much power of thought, and she at length found a partial relief from her sorrow by writing small works for publication.  But how is it all this time with the wandering ‘Prodigal?’ Nine years have passed away since he left his home, when an agent for the sale of books for a large publishing house was spending a few days in one of the large cities of the West.  During his stay in the place, his business as agent often led him into public places; and on several occasions he noticed a young man that attracted his attention.  There was nothing prepossessing in his appearance; on the contrary, he bore the marks of dissipation in his countenance; his clothing was old and soiled, and once or twice he saw him when partially intoxicated.  The agent was a middle-aged man, and was a close observer of those with whom he came in contact, and somehow or other he felt a strange interest in this young man for which he could not account; and meeting him so frequently, he determined to speak to him.  As a pretext for accosting him he offered to sell him some books, although he had no hopes of success.  The young man regarded him with visible surprise, when he enquired if he would not like to purchase a book.  ’I have no money to spend for books,’ replied the man, yet as if unable to resist the impulse, he leaned over the table, on which the agent had placed several books, and began looking them over; and finally selected one, inquired the price, and paid for it.  They soon after parted, and the agent thought they should probably meet no more, as he expected soon to leave the city.  He returned to the hotel where he boarded, and after tea seated himself on the piazza, to enjoy the cool evening air; when the same young man suddenly approached him, and grasping his hand said, in a voice choked with emotion:  ’Tell me, sir, where, O! where did you get that book?’ This young