SUSAN GRAY. 61

Ixy. 24,) so ordered it, that some poor holy man
passing along the lane which is at the back of
the garden, should bethink himself of beguiling
the way by singing the praises of God. It was
an old psalm tune, which I remembered to have
heard my father sing when I was a very little
‘child, and I had never heard it again since that
time.

I listened to the sound, as it drew nearer,
and eagerly strove to catch every note, till the
singer had passed away; and, such was the ef-
fect on my mind, it seemed to me as if the days
of my childhood had returned again. I could
almost have fancied that I saw my father and
mother again, and the Holy Spirit of God, for
I can think no less, brought them to my remem-
brance. Many pious lessons which I had re-
ceived from these beloved parents, and which
had almost entirely passed from my mind, or
till now, at best, had been very imperfectly re-
membered; much, also, that dear Mrs. Neale
had said to me before her death, was, at this
time, brought before me, as strongly as if she
were still speaking: and my conscience began
to smite me with having profited so little by all
that these dear friends had done for me. From
these thoughts, I was led on to think of Him
who had died for me, and of all that he had
endured for my sake; and, like St. Peter, I be-
gan to weep bitterly: and I trust that these
tears were shed in a humbler spirit than those
which had just before flowed from my eyes.

I was enabled this night to give myself up to
God, and to trust him with the future events of

F