94 THE CARNATION. 



A beloved friend, whose faithful labours in the 

 ministry had shed the hglit of Goshen within 

 many a detached coltnge, where all besides was 

 darkness — yea, darkness tliat might be felt— was 

 removed from among us. At his departure, I was 

 told of Dame C, as one who would surely feel 

 the loss, and reque^l'^.d to look in upon her occasion- 

 ally. It was nut long before I visited the cottage ; 

 and certainly a less attractive scene I could hardly 

 have encountered. 



On entering the little kitchen, the first object 

 that presented itself was the conuteuance of a boy, 

 in the very lowest state of confirmed idiotcy ; his 

 open mouth distorted into a wild laugh, and dis- 

 figured by a frightful scar, occasioned by his fall- 

 ing upon the wood fire. This deplorable being sat 

 in a little chair; his long mis-shapen legs and 

 arms were alike powerless ; and altogether the 

 first sight of him was enough to check my wish 

 for further acquaintance with the cottagers. How- 

 ever, I proceeded, and saw a very old man sitting 

 near the fire ; while a middle-aged woman, of a 

 very serious and even sad countenance, respectful- 

 ly welcomed her visitor. 



' Is this your little boy ?' said I, trying to recon- 

 cile myself to the spectacle. 



* No, madam, he is a friendless child,' cast by 

 the Lord on such poor help as we can give him.' 



* Where is Dame C. ?' 



^Z 



